The Tale Of Lord Maxwell: Awaken The Bacon
by dustywalker
Summary: "The Blight ended, the Archdemon destroyed. Time for peace and quiet, and maybe a nap in the shade with my favourite Human while sleeping off lunch, right? Somebody didn't tell those stupid Darkspawn... " When the Thaw doesn't go according to plan, the Grey Wardens are needed once more. Lord Maxwell rides again, as treachery and fate make rude gestures behind his back.
1. The Violin Affair

**_Welcome back - it's The Year of The Dog, so that means it's time for more Max mayhem._ Awakening _style. BioWare's stuff belongs to BioWare, and I borrowed Higheverport and the Broughtens from Melysande's fics - check them out. Only Max's view of events is mine._**

* * *

 _What do you guys think? The trade ship? We'd see her if she was on a fishing boat! Hello, Mistress! Come on out, now!_

Furgus gives me an amused smile, but Barker just grunts like I'm some kind of juvenile. _What's your problem, Barker?_

" _It's_ _ **So**_ _baka, as I keep telling you! Making noise and wiggling your fat butt in our faces isn't gonna make your Human get here sooner."_

 _Oh no? You don't think she'll be mortified and rush over to make me shut my noise-hole?_

" _... True. You are quite embarrassing."_

 _Pfft,_ _ **wrong!**_ _She'll hear me, and rush over just because she missed me! You've got a lot to learn, if you're gonna make it as a Cousland hound._

Furgus straightens up a bit, and motions at a modest ship near the far pier. "I think that one's letting passengers off."

 _Great!_

I almost bolt, when he grabs my collar. _Careful! There's spikes on that, you know!_ "Careful, boy" he repeats, nodding at the sign.

 **Please: no Mabari on the gangways at any time.** In fresher paint, underneath is that slanderous addition. **Including Maxwell.**

 _Oh, for Dane's sake! Are they_ _ **still**_ _mad about that?! I tell you, Barker... accidentally knock one idiot crabber, who couldn't watch where I was walking, into the drink and you never hear the end of it. Even more so when you wilfully shove a smart-mouthed portmaster off the dock._ I sit back, aghast at the sheer injustice of it all. _They both needed a bath, and they know it._

" _... And that bottom bit?_ _ **Especially Maxwell**_ _?"_

 _I was unfairly framed for_ _ **that**_ _one, and I'll bite anyone who says otherwise! I did not steal that violin, much less sell it to the butcher's daughter for bacon. Also, it was deceptively marked to avoid import duty. If I had known it was Antivan maple, I could have traded it for more than just bacon! Like smoked venison._ Venison? _...It's getting near lunch, is it not?!_

" _Right... you sound_ _ **so**_ _innocent."_

 _Thank you! Finally someone sees things from my perspective. Stupid Broughtens are just biased, against us Mabari, because they were never imprinted upon._

"Hey! Mandy! Over here!" Furgus shouts, as various people walk off the jetty.

"Fergus?" I hear her answer from amidst the crowd.

 _ **Mistress!**_

I rush over, and give her just enough time to brace herself before leaping up against her legs. _It's been a long time!_

"Easy, easy... I missed you too" she grins, kneeling down to rub my ears. "Were you a good boy?"

 _Of course! 13 out of 10, you know._

"Mostly, as I understand" Furgus says, typically understated. _He knows I was perfect, of course._

She flips me over for a stomach rub, as people walk around us.

"Sounds like you've earned this, then" she remarks, as she starts scritching. _Oh, I really missed you!_ _ **This**_ _is how to do a belly-rub, you stupid demons._

"So... you must have been up early, to meet me here" Mistress comments to Furgus, when she stands. "How did you manage that, by the way?"

"Right before breakfast, a certain Mabari began carrying on. Practically dragged me out to the stable by my wrist – he may been more emphatic than a letter, but I'd still prefer one instead next time" he answers with a grin. "So I had a wagon readied, and made our way down here to 'Port.

 _He's exaggerating… I grabbed him by the sleeve, not the wrist. I'm not an animal!_

"Sorry – I lucked out and found passage sooner than I expected" she smiles, sheepishly. "My stuff is coming later, on a cargo ship. I paid Max's old buddy, over there, so it'll be sent up later in the week."

 _Old Buddy? … Oh, Ser Portmaster giving me the evil-eye. Don't fucking look at me in that voice of tone, geezer, or I'll come down there and dunk you in the harbour again!_

"You're staying a while, then?"

Mistress nods, as we return to the wagon. "If that's alright?"

Furgus turns, and just gives her a look. "Of course" he says, spreading his arms open. "... Come on, sis. I haven't seen you since last year."

Letting herself be pulled into a hug, she groans with another smile. "You mean two months."

"The calendar changed, so that makes it a year!"

"Ah yes, Fergus logic..." she sighs, returning the gesture.

"Just be glad it wasn't as long for us since you saw Max, or I'd be wanting a belly-scratch as well!" he retorts.

 _As if... that's just between her and me. And now I think about it, it is Wintermarch. 9:31, eh? With all that shit of last year behind us, I think this will be our year, Mistress. The Year of The Mabari._

Barker makes an unconvinced noise.

 _What? If Dragons can get a hundred years named after them, then we at the sheer minimum warrant_ _ **one**_ _. Hmm. 10:01, The Mabari Age dawns. You know it'd be awesome too, because the 10:01 are mirroring each other. No other Age will ever do that._

" _Wouldn't it be 10:00?"_

… _You just have to ruin everything, don't you?_

" _I was just_ _ **asking**_ _."_

Mistress notices the argument. "Oh, you've still got the Chasind Mabari?"

"Seems like she's stuck with me. I got home and she was sitting more or less where she was when we left."

"Poor girl" Mistress coos, rubbing her ears. "There's no accounting for taste."

"Uh-huh. That's what we all said when you and Ser Pompous here picked each other."

 _Pompous? How could you call_ _ **moi**_ _pompous?!_ I joke.

" _What, are you Orlesian now?"_

… _I thought that was Antivan?_

" _Somewherian, I guess. Who cares?"_

 _True. Antiva, Orlesia, it's all the same after a while. Give me Ferelden anyday. Dane's country._

"My _Teyrn_!" someone calls from down the street. "... Still need to get used to that, Fergus. I didn't know you were coming our way." _Oh, great..._

" _Who's this guy?"_

… _Broughten! His family run this town for us, and he's a jerk._

Furgus and Mistress both turn, as he walks over. "Just an impromptu visit – look who I found" Furgus grins.

With a slight nod of recognition, Mistress bows her head. "Arl Philip."

 _Ugh... yeah, hey Broughten. Do note I'm not on your_ _ **precious**_ _docks._

He chuckles in response. "Goodness, girl, **you** grew up to be _formal_? Fine... greetings to you too, _Arlessa_. So you did come with those Orlesian Wardens, after all?"

"No. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised they arrived already. That reminds me, I should send a runner to the Keep."

"Oh right, your mage friend!" Furgus says with a slight start. "I forgot. You'll see him soon; he came by to drop off some notes, and I let him stay. Said that old ruin was getting to his mind."

"Three weeks back, I believe, the Orlesians arrived. Upset the Amaranthine nobility to no end, naturally" Broughten smirks.

" _Such_ a pity" Furgus and Mistress reply in unison. "Speaking of which, I assume you've cleaned out the last of your supplanter's junk from your estate? Lady... whichever tart Howe was last _involved_ with?" Mistress asks, by herself.

"Morag, wasn't it?" Furgus prompts.

 _.. Who the hell is_ _ **Morag**_ _?!_

"Morag? Doesn't ring a bell" Mistress shrugs. _Right?_

"That sounds right. Luckily, she was busy with the Blight and didn't actually move in when Howe **appointed** her to our lands" Broughten answers. "Although, we still had the estate scrubbed clean after Anora revoked _that_ bit of business at court. Just to be sure. It's all aired out, now; you'll have to come visit, before you move on." His eyes glance down at me, and twitch. "You and Fergus are more than welcome, any time" _Yeah, up yours with a pitchfork, Lord Autumn._ "Although, if you haven't eaten?"

"I haven't" Mistress answers.

"They had only just started on breakfast, when Max insisted we come down here" Furgus adds.

"Then the timing is perfect – we were evaluating Alienage repairs all morning, and the others went ahead to find a table at the tavern for lunch. You should come join us?"

"Splendid" they say, back in unison again.

" _Is it just me, or is it creepy when they do that?"_ Barker asks.

 _A bit, yeah... you ever see twins does it? That's real creepy._

" _Hmm... nah, I think it's worse for non-littermates. Twins have a_ _ **reason**_ _to be connected."_

 _True..._

We get to this tavern, and I notice the sign. **No Mabari in the public and dining areas. Maxwell.**

 _Oh, come on! I've never even_ _ **been**_ _here before!_

" _You always brag how famous you are... I guess your reputation precedes you?"_

 _Shut up..._

"Wait, I never even heard about Max being banned from a tavern?" Mistress says, spotting the stupid sign.

"Gossip spreads" Broughten shrugs.

"Maybe that violin was meant for the house musicians?" Furgus ever-so- _un_ helpfully says, making Broughten groan at the mere mention. _Don't blame me, man; I was barely involved._

"Ah, yes. Now I remember – the violin was part of a contractual stipend, for some expensive minstrel the tavern owner had hired. She walked away, due to all that nonsense over it."

 _Stupid Broughtens. Stupid tavern. Stupid sun in my eyes. Barker, let's go for a wander and find some food ourselves._

" _Would anywhere even serve you?"_

 _Hmm. I'd go see the butcher, but they hate me now. For reasons that don't involve me at all, the butcher's daughter got brought before the magistrate over that business with the violin. 'Receiving stolen goods' or some nonsense. I didn't steal it, assuming I_ _ **was**_ _there! I just impounded it. Because it was improperly imported._

" _Which you somehow knew before they checked the manifest."_

 _Obviously! I had a flash, and saw through time that it would happen. I just do that, now and then._

" _You? A soothsayer?_ _ **You**_ _?"_

 _Damn right. Blessed by Dane himself, I expect._

" _... Right."_

 _The mess eventually got settled. Mostly. There's still some lingering misunderstanding it was my fault, and Old Man Broughten has a grudge. So does the butcher's daughter. She even told Mistress not to come around anymore. Probably did Mistress a favour, showed her the girl may have been 'cute', but she was damn petty. Plus, if I hadn't... Mistress wouldn't have met Ree. So my powers of foresight must have been guiding me that day. I mean, if I_ _ **were**_ _involved in The Violin Affair. I'll accept an apology, Lord Autumn!_

" _Who?"_

 _Broughten._

" _... His first name is Autumn?!"_

 _What? No! Well, I don't think so. Didn't you notice his hairline?_

" _I usually don't look at that kind of thing."_

 _Oh. Well, point is that it's thinner than the last time I met him. Since his hair is slowly going, like leaves in Autumn, I'm gonna call the bastard just that. Then we'll see who's barred from half of 'Port!_

" _Still you."_

… _Shut your face._

"Max?"

 _Oh, hey Pip! What are you doing out here?_

" _Who?"_

" _Broughten's daughter. Looks like she's got food._

" _Oh. Then hello, Miss Autumn!"_

""I brought you something, since the tavern still hasn't forgiven you over that mess with the violin and that Maryden woman they were trying to hire." She spots Barker, as she gets closer. "And a friend? I guess you'll have to share" she says, looking at her hand.

… _Well, I wouldn't say_ _ **friend**_ _, if food's involved?_

" _Shut up, we're sharing."_

 _Whatever... worth a shot._

We both crunch up the bits Pip tosses down. After I finish, she kneels and rubs an ear. "Good to see you, boy. I better get back in there."

 _Uh, yeah. Good seeing you too, Pip. Best of luck with your_ _ **actual**_ _events_ I call after her.

" _Huh?"_ Barker stares at me, in confusion

 _Just saying. When we go to Amaranthine, her and us might only hear slight bits of gossip about the other. It'll be like we're in completely different stories._

" _... Stories?"_

 _You heard me._

" _You're weird! Bye, Miss Autumn! Enjoy your story, or whatever..."_

 _Yeah, thanks for stopping by! Have fun, over there._

As Pip heads back inside, Barker glances at the stupid sign again. _"That reminds me; what's the story with that painting?"_

 _Painting?_

" _It's just you... well, I think it's you. As a puppy? With broken things scattered around you, and"_

 _That fucking thing survived?!_

" _Yeah – it was hanging in a room with books. Not the big room with books, though. What gives?"_

… _Grandma, I mean Mistress and Furgus' mother, forced me to sit for that after a cruel and malicious wind knocked down her favourite Rivaini urn and shattered it._

" _What's a Rivaini urn?"_

 _Depends what kind of work they do. I'm not sure what the cost of living is, up there._

" _..."_ Wow, **that's** an unamused glare. Guess she does deserve to be a Cousland.

… _Sorry. It's like a vase, except you don't stick flowers in it. So I'm not sure what the point of them is._

" _So the_ _ **wind**_ _broke it, and totally not you?"_

 _Exactly! But Grandma came in, blamed me, and while everyone else was having lunch, I had to sit there for over an hour. With some stupid jerk artist painting me, and that stupid jerk paper they put in front of me. '_ _ **I smash urns**_ _'. Bullcrap I do! Mabari Shaming should be illegal; especially when there's no due process and people can just assume what happened. I can't believe she still had that hanging in her private study!_

" _You didn't know?"_

 _I wasn't allowed back in there, after what the Korcari rats did to some of her books._

" _... Rats. Right."_

 _Shut up! There actually was rats,_ _ **that**_ _time! After that day, I made it my mission in life to hunt the little bastards down, if they snuck into the castle again. I saved the kitchen on more than one occasion, for your information._

* * *

" _... This isn't as fun, going uphill"_ Barker comments, sitting back down.

 _Í blame science._

" _What?"_

 _We have more speed, going downhill, so you get a greater rush of scents up your nose if you stick your head out the side of the wagon._

" _No, I understand that. 'What' was 'what's science?'"_

 _Oh. I don't quite know – might just be a word I made up. Or I had a vision and learnt it from a book in the Mabari Age. Trust me, that's going to be a thing!_

" _... You should have a good rest, when we get home. Maybe having Weedith back will cool your peculiarities."_

 _I am_ _ **not**_ _peculiar, thank you very much. I just march to my own drum._

" _And other people's violins."_

… _Ha. Ha. Ha. Oh, the fun of repeating idiotic slander and rumours._ I hop off the wagon, once we stop outside the Castle. _Another reason to be glad Mistress is home! I don't have to talk to_ _ **you**_ _, anymore._

" _I know. I'm very glad of the fact."_

… _Mistress! Let's go see Scruffy. He's probably upstairs. I bet he'll be capable of intelligent conversation, unlike some._

We enter the dining hall, and there he is... awkwardly looking up at us, from a book... and what appears to be the remnants of Furgus' breakfast. _Of course the bookworm reads while eating._ "Sorry. They said you had to leave, and that I should finish your food, when I came down." Scruffy notices Mistress, and practically leaps out of the chair. "... Welcome back?"

Furgus chuckles. "It's fine – I better let them know we ate, and won't need lunch. And you two can discuss secret Warden things in secret."

"Good thinking – there are a couple of those" Mistress replies. Once he leaves, taking stupid Barker and the empty food plate, with him, Mistress takes the seat next to Scruffy. "Okay... first off, I need to apologise" she says, offering her hand out to him.

They shake, as he sits back down. "Why?"

"... What happened, with the Archdemon. Turns out it was Alistair" she sighs.

" **Oh**."

"Yeah... so I'm sorry for accusing you, and not hearing you out." She drums the table for a moment. "I hope that won't dissuade you from serving as my Warden-Constable?"

He taps a finger, as well. "Huh... well, firstly. I'm honoured. So you definitely got the command?"

"I did. That was the **one** pleasant conversation I had, in Weisshaupt. Short version, they're beyond puzzled and suspicious, so I get a small swarm of _Orlesians_ to watch me _._ They're waiting at Amaranthine, so I'll send a letter tomorrow, that I'll be there next week." Mistress groans at whatever thought just hit her. "Better let Anora know, too. I expect they'll have something spiteful in mind for Loghain; being Orlesians and all. Likely a transfer, when they decide the Thaw's dealt with."

"True. So... you found Alistair?"

"Kirkwall."

"And..." he prompts, with a hand on her shoulder.

She looks at her feet, before answering. "... And he's a bitter drunk."

"No. _And_..." he repeats, trying to make her look up.

"There's not another _and_ " she mutters.

" _And_ it's **not** your fault. He abandoned an entire country to die, he doesn't _get_ the high ground even if it were! To hell with him" Scruffy says, frowning. "I hope you at least cracked him in the face."

She almost smiles. "That would have been redundant... I also met Sten, while I was there. _He_ spotted Al, on the docks, and apparently **tackled** him for a beating. Judging by his lip, it was a harsh one."

 _Way to go, Qunie! I hope you gave that traitorous fucker a black eye!_

"Nice" Scruffy whistles. "Wish I'd seen it."

She sighs at that, and shakes her head. "I don't know..."

"Wait, why was Sten in Kirkwall?" he asks. _Because that's where he lives? … Don't tell me you really believed he's from Seheron?! Qunari – horns = wandering lunatic claiming to be a Qunari. It's a little thing called science, if that even exists._

"Meeting with the Arishok... **he** was _big_. Even for them!" Mistress exclaims, holding her hand a good distance above her head.

Scruffy makes an amused grin, as he watches her hand keep rising. "Okay... and why was-"

"His Ari-ship ran ashore, from what I heard" Mistress says, shrugging with one shoulder since the other's still in use. _Put your hand down, we get it!_ _ **Actual**_ _Qunari are tall!_ "Anyway. Fergus said you brought some documents. These?" she gestures one-handedly at his book. _Put. Your stupid hand. Down. You're so embarrassing sometimes, Mistress. They should put signs about_ _ **you**_ _outside taverns!_ _ **Beware of Drunken Couslanders and their singing. Especially Amanda 'Mistress' Cousland.**_ _Just because we're finally back home, doesn't mean you should act like a stupid kid again!_

"Mostly stuff relating to the Houses that sided with Dryden against the King. I thought your brother could check them, see what's worth passing on to their descendants. Or if the Houses even exist anymore. I _thought_ about just sending them, here... but I had to get out of there. We may have sealed the Veil, but I was still getting way too many whispers in my dreams." Scruffy closes the book. "This is some of Avernus' notes on Joining improvements. A few of the non-blood magic ideas might work..."

"Oh, speaking of people I met!" Mistress **finally** drops her arm, to lift her satchel onto the table, and begins rummaging. "I _also_ encountered... where are we? Here" she holds out two bits of paper. "And here. One's an aunt, and the other is your cousin. The uncle man just scowled and fell asleep."

 _Wait... he's related to_ _ **paper**_ _?! No wonder you're a bookworm, Scruffy!_

He takes them cautiously, and slides both in a pocket. "... Amells. I'll read them later. Maybe."

"Your choice" Mistress nods. "I warned them not to expect an answer."

"We'll see. What's the cousin like, at least?"

"Younger than us, I think. Beth. She's **cute** " she says with a dangerous smile. _Don't let Ree hear you say that, Mistress._ "... And a Mage"she whispers. _Okay, don't let anyone hear that._

"And they didn't give _her_ up to the Circle, I assume?" he responds, with a dark expression.

"Well, she's _half_ -Amell... I think. _Hawk_ still sounds like a bad alias to me, honestly" _Yeah, that's gotta be fake!_ "and they only returned to Kirkwall because of the Blight. They managed to get out of Lothering, before... you know. There was a guy cousin as well, but I didn't meet him." _Low Vering? Hmm... Hawk. This girl's a hedge-mage, by the sound of it, so_ _ **maybe**_ _she might have met Morrie. And/or her crazy dead mum. She was out picking creepy mushrooms or something in the Wilds one day, and met them in the swamp. Probably mid-dragon. Naturally, she was all "Teach me that dragon trick, it looks useful!" and Morrie's mum would have been like"You could never be a dragon! …But here's a bird trick." "Neat, I'm gonna call myself Hawk now! Get it?!" Swamp Mum would have rolled her eyes so hard she briefly saw through time, and said "... I regret this already." No wonder Morrie refused to teach anyone shape-shifting, when Mistress asked. They swore never to do that again, after 'Hawk'._

"Hmm. If her letter's alright, I might answer her. No real harm, right?" Scruffy says, breaking me out of the flashback that might have been.

Mistress nods, supportively. "True. Odds are you'll never _meet_ her, so what's the harm in a letter?"

They both stand, and share another handshake.

"Welcome back, Commander."

Thank you, Constable... here we go again, I suppose?" she asks, as I wander over to sit in between them. _Here we go againI, for sure. If any of you Darkspawn shits are still around,_ _ **watch out!**_ _Team Max is back in action!_

* * *

 ** _Next chapter gets into_ Awakening _proper - I didn't want to do a straight recap, but worked in the important things. It was mostly to get the characters' voices back; except Mistress. I loved the idea of 'being home' making her act like the massive dork she was pre-Blight, and to let her not be so war-wearily emo for once. She's got plenty of time for that, when Darkspawn/nobles start trying to kill her again. Dog Shaming portraits would_ have _to be a thing, when dealing with hyper-intelligent Mabari._**


	2. Food is a proper field of study!

**_So I lied - this chapter's still Highever, before they leave for Amaranthine. I started a meal scene, and it wouldn't end... I blame Warden appetite. Is it still a spoiler, if Max's ponderings at the end_ only _make sense if you read The Calling?_**

* * *

 _I suppose we better eat up – we sure never got food like_ _ **this**_ _, when we were Wardening across the countryside! Sure, we have a Keep now, but that's no guarantee. I remember Toadface's cook always overdid the meat, but that arsehole likely hired the cheapest guy he could find... and/or he ordered all his food done that way, so nobody could poison him. Unfortunately, nobody ever did._

 _Mistress, if that cook is still there, fire them!_

Scruffy awkwardly glances at his plate, and then at the door. "... Should we wait? _Nah, Furgus knows when breakfast is. Well, he should, but he's been down late every day. Yet you always hem and haw about eating when he doesn't show._

Swallowing, Mistress shrugs. "It's up to you. I'd rather let it sit a little, before we go marching out to Amaranthine. Especially if this escort arrives early. Fergus expects us to start without him, you don't need to keep worrying about offending him." _See?_

"That's well and good for you two, but I'm a guest still..." he mutters, poking a sausage with his fork. "I forgot to ask; are you getting a full procession?"

"The escort? No, their letter said they're just sending a recruit... sounds like they've already starting patrolling without me, so they couldn't spare anyone. I guess the _Constable_ they appointed is going to be a pushy one."

"So, who did steal my tentative position?" Scruffy asks, with an 'easy come, easy go' tone.

"You met Caron, didn't you?"

"... The Dwarf? Yeah. He seemed alright."

Mistress nods. "Too capable not to promote, too Dwarfish for Orlais, probably. So they're making him stay here. I expect most of them will be the Orlesians who came to help with the Thaw. Him, the tall one... I forget the others."

"The tall one?" Scruffy asks, still poking the meat.

She frowns. "He had a local accent – I don't know, I met them when I was still recovering. That's all a blur to me, now."

 _The fussy bread guy! Crust Off, or whatever._

"Uh... Kristoff?" Scruffy suggests. _Or is he also pondering his toast? Just eat it, Scruffy. Furgus is probably eating while he works, Grandpa used to do that in his study when he was Teyrn._

"If you say so" Mistress answers. She sighs, when his stomach grumbles. "Just eat. You'll need a Warden breakfast for the journey, and after this we'll be eating like soldiers."

"... Yeah, good point" he concedes. "If that's anything like food in the Circle, then I shouldn't waste this opportunity."

"Mmh" she mumbles. _Wait until you're done shovelling it in your gob... or let me take over. You talk, and I'll eat the breakfast. Good?_ "I should have Helena prepare some food for this recruit. They won't know what hit them, next meal after the Joining." _If they get one – they might choke on it like Stinky and poor Baldy. At least Mistress made sure to get their names on that memorial that got put up._

"Fut's a nood point" Scruffy spits out, along with a hint of egg. _You're both_ _ **pigs**_ _! Eating in front of me, while I'm here all alone! Where's_ _ **my**_ _food?! I have Warden hungers too, you know!_ "Give them the side-effects talk now, you think?"

"Maybe. I bet the Orlesians won't have told them" she replies. "...Max, stop staring. I'm trying to eat."

 _So am I! Feed me, or we keep playing the guilting stare game._

Scruffy freezes, making his weird mid-thought face. He tosses a sausage to me, and turns. _Thank you, kind ser._ "Speaking of which... you were certain about the 'no kids' thing?"

Mistress lowers her fork, like she expects this to be a long question. "Not as much, now. Apparently it's rare enough to mention, but _can_ happen. Why?"

"Oh, I managed to slip away from Oghren during the celebrating. When the Queen declared the Blight over, and you gave your speech."

"I 'member" she replies, between bites. "Was there." _Pig._

"Right. So, I wandered between taverns, and street dancing... and then I only remember waking up with someone. Just wondering if I'm going to have an angry letter waiting, when we arrive." _Little Scrufflings, running around? I hope they don't inherit your humour. Or face. Magic, sure... oh, but they'd get thrown in the Tower._

Mistress grins. "Little Daylens, running around? We'll soon find out, I suppose" she teases, before going back to her food. _**Pig**_ _._

"True. It's just..." he trails off, but Mistress motions for him to continue. "Well. While she was making us breakfast in the morning, the others all woke up and emerged... turned out she had _five_ kids. Which makes me wonder if Goldie's fertile enough to overcome it, considering-" he stops in alarm, as Mistress starts loudly choking. _Small bites, idiot!_ He moves to slap her back, when she doesn't stop. She coughs up a mess, right on her plate, just before he swings. "... You okay?"

"Ugh..." she groans, wiping her face. "You're joking, right?!"

"No. Five" he says, rubbing her back. "Not all at once, though, if that's what got you. Just breathe." _I should hope not! If_ _ **humans**_ _start producing litters, there'll be nothing stopping them from overrunning Thedas. Oh, and it might be unhealthy for the mothers._

"You're talking about **Goldanna**?! Lives near the market?"

He blinks in confusion."You've... met, then?" _Gold Anna. Why does that sound familiar?_

"Oh, boy..." she says, still getting her breath back. "So Alistair never mentioned this to you, then."

"No? Whatever _this_ is. It's not like he and I ever really spoke, so..."

The door swings open, and Furgus wanders in with a mostly eaten plate. "Good morning! Sorry I'm late, but a scout came to report." He's about to sit down, when he sees the coughed up disaster on Mistress' plate. "... Maker's breath, Mandy! You're _twenty_ , learn how to eat like a big girl already" he smirks.

Glowering, she shoves the plate away from her. "S'not _my_ fault" she pouts. "Daylen did it... and Max didn't even run over to check on me! Bad dog!" _Don't blame me for your problems – what was I meant to do?! Especially when you haven't fed me!_

"Anyway" Scruffy cautiously begins, "what was the problem?"

"The scout came up to tell me" Furgus says, at the same time. "The recruit's arrived in town, already."

"It's his _sister_ " Mistress grumbles, still pouting. _Lovely, now the_ _ **three**_ _of them are talking in unison. Wait, who are we talking about?_

"... How do you know?" Furgus asks. "The runner didn't even say if it was a woman."

"Whose sister?" Scruffy also asks. _**One**_ _at a time, people!_ "... Wait. You mean Goldie is _his_ sister?!"

"Half-sister" she glares into space. "What even made you pick _that_ bitch?"

"I... well, I can't remember _meeting_ her, with all the drinking. She seemed nice enough, in the morning." I glance over, and Furgus looks just as lost as I feel.

"Well, yeah! Warden _stamina_! You'd just given her a right good fu-"

" **Amanda** " Furgus loudly cuts her off, with a decent impression of Grandpa. "Not at the table... you've already dirtied it with your food." _You'll make a Teyrn yet, brother._

"Probably the first time since her last bastard popped out" Mistress mutters to herself, as a servant appears. "No wonder she was friendly to _you_... Warden stamina." _Yeah, you already said that. If you're gonna repeat things, why not repeat that one day you fed me on time? Or was it so long again, you've forgotten how? What does that even mean? Stamin her? Is 'stamin' some new slang? Neat. 'Stamin her? I barely know her!' … Sounds like something Braids would have come up with, the pervy creep._

"Huh" Scruffy exhales, still with that moronic puzzled look. "She seemed a bit dumbstruck when I said I was a Warden... I thought it was just awe, since we saved the Kingdom. I guess _not,_ now."

"Should I bring any more... food?" the servant asks, glancing down at Mistress' plate with carefully restrained disgust in her eyes. _I know, dear. I know. Can't take her anywhere... not even_ _ **home**_ _._

"Perhaps just some fruit?" Furgus suggests, back to a neutral tone. "For the incoming envoy, if nobody else."

"Of course, my Teyrn" she dips her head, before taking the plates. "... And I thought _my_ little babe had trouble with solids" I hear her complain under her breath as she leaves.

"Thank you, Helena" Furgus apologetically calls after her. _Guess he heard her, too._

"She's sure got a loose tongue" Mistress grumbles, crossing her arms.

 _Was she wrong?_

"She's just following Nan's proud tradition. _You_ suggested I hire her, don't forget" Furgus replies.

 _Oh, was_ _ **that**_ _her? Damn... I wanted to see Baldy's kid, too. I bet he's already got more hair than his father._

… _Anyway._ I crawl over, next to a certain foot. _Greetings, friend Scruffy. I was just wondering._ I whine, and nudge his foot. _Didn't her failed attempt at ingestion disturb your appetite? I would gladly relieve this burden for you, my comrade._

"Max... you've _got_ a bowl, over there" Mistress calls, still pouting. _Yes, that's technically accurate... but it's not_ _ **interesting**_ _, like people food. I want to see what you guys have, and if it tastes good. My hunger is also a hunger for knowledge, why can't you respect that? Food is a proper field of study – like knowing to chew your food in proper portions, so you don't hack it back up all over your plate like a certain someone..._

"Bloody dog" she groans. "I'm going to quickly wash up, before the recruit gets here."

"Ignore her" Furgus tells Scruffy, once she's gone. "My sister likes to nurse grudges far longer than most . If you like this woman, that's your business."

"I... well, I _think_ I do. People send letters, right?" Scruffy asks, suddenly nervous. "Sorry, forget I asked."

"I take it the Circle doesn't train their wards in such matters?" Furgus answers, amused. _Biddy seemed to hate the idea – you'd think the Templars would_ _ **encourage**_ _Mage babies. More Mages means more funds from the Chant Tree._

"Attachments are bad, blah blah" Scruffy waves a hand. "I'd ask what the Warden stance is... but I don't think my _Commander_ would take kindly to that question right now."

Furgus scoffs. "Like I said, ignore her. If... well, go for happiness where you can find it" he suggests, the amusement draining away. "While it's available."

I stride over, and plop my head on his knee. _I miss them as well, brother_ I whine, as he rubs my ear. "... Thanks, Max. I love you too."

Lady Baldy _… no, that needs work. She's got wonderful hair!_ returns and places a plate of fruit on the table. _Love your work, madam, and... hey, what the_ _ **hell**_ _are you doing, freak?! I'm not finished!_ I'm about to charge over, but she calmly puts my bowl back down. _Oh, you were just moving it closer! Pardon my rude presumption, then... might I meet the young lad Balderson, if we have time?_

The side door opens, and a guard enters. "My lord, a Grey Warden has arrived." _Darn, seems we don't have time. Hopefully it's a woman, like Mistress guessed;_ _ **that'll**_ _show stupid Barker that it's possible to see through time! … Wait, no. She wasn't talking about them, but Gold Anna._ I weigh up my options. _Stuff it, I'll tell Barker it counts! She's not here to know the context._

"Show them in" Furgus nods, before standing to look at the fruit. "Oh, grapes" he notes, taking a small bunch.

Scruffy gets up as well, while the guard moves to let the Warden through. _**Ree**_ _!_ I run over, while she's saluting. "Greetings again, my-" she stops, and pushes a leg out to stop me jumping up. "My Teyrn." _Come now, we haven't seen each other in forever! Professionalism is dumb, give us a hug!_

"At ease, Mhairi" Furgus smiles. "She'll be back shortly. So have a seat. There's fruit?"

 _Yeah, no need to stand on ceremony here. You're Warden stamining his sister, don't be so formal with the guy._

I nudge Ree again, when she doesn't immediately move. Sighing, she kneels down and pats me. "You're so needy" she pretends to complain. _Big heart means big love, so I have to spread it!_ She shoves me off, and walks away to take a seat. "Thank you, Fergus." _See? We're all friends here!_ I rest my head on her leg. _I missed you. So did Mistress, I bet._ She groans, but still rubs behind my neck. "Fine... Daylen. Good to see you again."

"Likewise" Scruffy says. "I see you enlisted, after all."

"Mostly – they're waiting for her return, before any Joinings."

"... Does she know?" he asks, warily.

Ree sighs. "Not yet. Partly, I wanted to surprise her..." _Oh, you're not_ _ **still**_ _having awkward arguments over this?! Mistress will come around, I bet. She better! It's gonna be awesome, having you as a Warden too! Mistress and Lady Ree; they fight crime! Okay, Darkspawn. You can fight Darkspawn_ _ **and**_ _crime, together. Darkspawn criminals! They'd be even worse!_

"Ah... good luck with that" Scruffy offers. "I kind of put her in one of her moods, sorry."

Before Ree can answer, Mistress comes back in. "Any sign of the..."

"Amanda" Ree smiles, standing. "I..."

Mistress runs over, and pulls her into a hug. Turning his head away, Furgus tosses an apple to Scruffy. They both sit in awkward silence, eating their fruit. _I think... no. Wait. No. Okay. They're done kissing, you guys can look up now. Wait. Okay, now._

"I was worried you didn't get my letter" Mistress smiles, as they pull apart.

"Sorry, I wanted to speak in person first" Ree answers, her eyes going a little anxious. "So we could _talk_ about it."

"Talk about-" Mistress finally notices her tabard. "... _You're_ the escort. So, you **did** -"

"Not yet, but they accepted Rowland and I" Ree says.

Mistress drags a hand through her hair. "... I see." _Relax, Mistress. The Blight is over, so all the bad shit that came with it is over too, right? That's just a little thing I call science._

"Amanda... this is what I want" Ree pushes, taking Mistress' hand.

"I know... I'm just _worried_." _It'll be_ _ **fine**_ _!_ "You know why."

"And I can accept that risk" Ree says, getting some determination back in her face. _See? She knows what she's doing. It'll be great – the four of us, five if we count Old Man Toenail, hunting down Darkspawn criminals! An Alpha ransacked a Carta cache, and decided to start up its own gang when it realised what kind of money they could make! The Orlesians can back us up too, I suppose… What would a Darkspawn crimelord even be into? Kidnapping and murder, obviously. But what's a Darkspawny type crime? .. Stealing blood? Scruffy, with Nail and I helping, found that Blood Mage blood warehouse while sweeping the city after Mistress killed the Archdemon. I still don't know what that creepy fucking building was actually about... But how would Darkspawn and evil Mages even negotiate deals?! "I'll give you some creepy jewellery I found in the Deep Roads, and this weird dagger, if you agree to cast spells to help us taint all the lands!" "Sure thing, buddy! I see no reason not to trust a Darkspawn that can somehow talk."_

 _Nah, as if_ _ **that**_ _would ever happen! Therefore, these hypothetical Darkspawn would be stealing blood for their own fucked up hypothetical reasons, if they even exist. I'm probably just being stupid again..._

* * *

 ** _A/N_**

 ** _Okay, so Awakening for real next time. Probably. Don't trust me on this kind of thing. Thanks to everyone reading, and 'Guest' for the review._**


	3. Lord Maxwell's arrival at Vigil's Keep

_I'm glad we're walking overland, instead of taking horses. And not just because I'd have to march non-stop to keep up with them; horses never give you time for chasing birds or investigating weird smells. But because_ _ **this**_ _is nice._ I glance about, as Scruffy flicks a conjured spark into the wood to make a camp-fire. Camaraderie. _Just us Wardens, hanging out, like the old days. Too bad Chirpy isn't here to sing us something... I chased that bird in Rumble's name, but didn't crush it. Even if I wanted to, no hands._

"... She's off getting water" Ree mutters, taking a seat next to Scruffy. "I _think_ that's what she mumbled."

"Figures" he replies, with a nod. "That was usually her preferred distraction, when she didn't know what to do."

"She should just talk to me, is what she should do" Ree groans, wearily.

"She will, when she's decided how. I hope you already noticed by now, but she gets easily thrown if things are out of her control." He leans back, satisfied with the fire. "I grew up around nobles, or what Kirkwall passes off as nobles; you either end up a control freak or a drunken twit constantly trying to slip the leash, in that environment." _Mistress can be both, depending on circumstance. But she_ _ **tries**_ _to stay normal._ "Throw in the kind of expectations a name like **Cousland** carries... well, she's not as insane as she _should_ have been. She'll get her head together, and talk to you."

Ree frowns. "You think so? Last I heard, she shoved **you** up a tower over whatever happened with that apostate."

"Yeah, well... let's just say things were ludicrously out of her control" Scruffy answers. _Don't hope for an explanation, Ree. Even I still don't know what the hell happened._ "But she got herself together and actually apologised. Granted, that... was much bigger, but you two will be okay. She hated the fact _I_ became a Warden, so you have to expect her to have issues with _you_ Joining. Especially behind her back."

"It wasn't behind her back!" Ree scowls, even more when Scruffy offers an unconvinced expression. "... Technically. She knew I was going to enlist."

"Perhaps. But there's _I'm going to be a Warden_ and then there's ambushing her with the fact you already were one..." he sighs. "Look – I get where both of you are coming from, **and** I don't want to get stuck amidst the argument any farther than I already am. But _you_ did blindside her, and _she_ needs to hear you out." They both sit, taking turns to poke the fire with sticks.

 _Shut up with the awkward silence, and say something! How about a joke? I'll start. You guys ever hear the story about the barmaid and the butcher?_ Nothing.

 _Alright. Ahem... The Barmaid and The Butcher! There was once a barmaid, who worked at the Lion's Head tavern. She always_

"Did your friend enlist as well?" Scruffy asks. _Excuse me, you rude bastard. Don't interrupt._

"He's hardly _my_ friend... I can't even imagine how she stood his company" Ree sighs.

"Oh. Amanda said you two were friends, from serving Sighard?"

 _Mistress says a lot of things. So it's my turn. The Barmaid and The Butcher! Now, her name was Alice_

"Wait, you mean Rowland?" _… Okay, fine. Her name was Alice_ _ **Rowland**_ _. Have it your way, Ree. The Barmaid and The Butcher! Miss_ _ **Rowland**_ _always_ "I didn't expect her to mention that to you. Yes, we rode up there together."

I wait a second, my tail twitching with impatience. _Are we good? Good. The Barmaid and The Butcher! .. Where was I? Anyway, every evening she would_

I jump, as Mistress suddenly places down the water-pot beside me. "Here we go. Daylen, you can cook tonight." She offers a hand to Ree. "We need to go talk..."

Ree lets herself get pulled up, and they walk out of earshot. "Heh..." _What are you chuckling about? I didn't finish my joke. I barely even got to_ _ **start**_ _._ "I _knew_ she was listening to us."

 _Not the_ _ **whole**_ _time, but I'm pretty sure she heard you call her 'insane'... which you probably knew and said that on purpose, right?_

"Hopefully they just get over it. Both of them" he says, tossing leaves in the pot. "Right, Max?"

 _In time. Hopefully_ _ **after**_ _we get to the Keep. You remember how noisily obvious Chirpy and Idiot were, when they used to rut in the old campsites? Trust me, brother, Mistress can be worse. Don't get me wrong; good for her, but I don't need to_ _ **hear**_ _it._

"Still... what did she mean, before. _Who_ , rather? At the Keep."

 _Huh? The non-friend... I don't know. Someone unlikable, by the sounds. Braids? Maybe he got sick of all the rules Gnawer's army has, and wants to hang out with us again._

"It's probable the Terrible Teryn showed up early, I suppose."

 _What, Toenail? Nah... well, maybe. I'd still bet on it being Braids, myself. Pungent oaf. But I'm stealing 'terrible Teryn'._

"Alright. Max, Care to make a deal with me?" he asks, as he wipes down a skillet.

… _Does it involve meat?!_

"I should _like_ to cook something in peace, without being slobbered on." _So tell Ree. She'll control Mistress, if you have such poor faith in her table manners. She doesn't_ _ **often**_ _cough up gunk during meals..._

"So, if you just sit there while I work" _Wait a second... boy, what the fuck are you trying to say about me?!_ " **And** don't make so much noise, I'll make sure you get a nice cut." _Or I'll just fucking snatch your food, for this impertinent implication of impropriety! … Implacable? Implacable! Yes,_ _ **that's**_ _what I am now. If you think you can bribe away your foul slander, Ser, you had better-_

"... And I promise not to bathe you without permission?"

 _Without_ _ **my**_ _permission! You shall not aid Mistress in stripping away my agency and right of self-determination. That includes none of your Paralysis Glyph bullshit, even if someone else is trying to wash me!_

"Until next month."

… _Okay, fine. Just don't overcook my piece._

"Alright then. Deal." Satisfied, he stands. _Um... why are you walking over there? Cooking fire's_ _ **here**_ _, moron!_ He reaches the nearest tree, and pulls down a bag. _Huh, I didn't even notice that hanging there._

"Thankfully you can't climb, so my stash was safe" he gloats, walking past me. _We Mabari can do anything we wish! I could climb any tree I want... I merely choose not to. It's a matter of humility – you're not as awesome as I am, so you wouldn't understand._

"Whatever, now shut up. Recooking this, without giving everyone food poisoning, is the hard part."

 _You people overcomplicate everything! If cooking is so dangerous, just eat the meat raw. Trust me, we Mabari have done that for centuries and never gotten sick. And we also discovered what to do if food makes you sick. Just eat some grass. Barker told me that's nonsense and doesn't actually help, so I know it_ _ **is**_ _true. What the hell does she know about medicine, anyway?! She didn't even believe me when I said Mistress and Idiot Al drank poultices during the Blight. 'No, no, you_ _ **rub**_ _poultices and_ _ **drink**_ _potions!' Shut up, Barker! Who died and made you the Empress of medicine? Can't have been Liar, because he died and made Mistress the Commander of Wardens. Couldn't have done both, you know. Especially since he wasn't an Empress. This is Ferelden, we don't have any Empresses. Empressi? Whatever. Well, there was Cookie Templar by the lake. He claimed to be a Empress... but he didn't have any jewellery or a fine dress. That guy probably wasn't even a Comtesse, dressed how he was._

There's a faint rush of wind, which blows a hint of sizzling meat and whatever herbs Scruffy's got boiling. My tongue involuntarily moistens, and I catch myself before leaning forward too far. _Remember the deal, Max! No bath for a month! Right... yes. Wait, no. He said he was a Queen, not an Empress. Antiva, wasn't it? Then he took Qunie's cookies. Cookies. Food._ _ **Meat**_ _..._

"Max" Mistress warns, a firm hand resting on my neck as she drops down beside me. _Judging by the smell, he's blending the rosemary quite well, with... what else is that?!_

"Should his nostrils be doing... that?" Ree asks, sitting down as well. _Hey, they're sitting next to each other now. That's an improvement!_

"He's a sucker for seasoning and spices" Mistress answers, with an amused look. "Nan really _did_ spoil him too much."

 _I make no apologies for a gourmet education, Mistress. As I've said before, Food is a perfectly valid field of study!_

"It's a little weird, eating like this while camped" Scruffy notes, while finishing with the food. "When I first arrived, it was raining most nights."

"It's finally warming up, too" Ree adds, accepting her bowl.

"Yes, Guardian's almost here" Mistress says, looking at the sky. _Pfft, tell him to piss off! We're four of the toughest bastards in Thedas, we don't_ _ **need**_ _a guard._ "... I mean the month, Max."

 _Oh,_ _ **Pluitanis**_ _. Use the proper title, Mistress. Didn't you learn anything from Aldous?_

Ree thinks for a second. "Four days. Well, tomorrow makes it three. You'll be Arlessa just in time for Wintersend."

 _So you're obligated to make it an awesome party, your first year! Hold on, if next month is..._ _ **Scruffy**_ _!_

"Shut up, Max. He already-" Mistress grabs me, as I try to lunge at him. "You've **got** food, idiot!"

Scruffy gives an evil smirk, trying to pretend he didn't throw himself back when I moved. "Just figured that part out, did you?" _Blow it out your arse, you duplicitous sack of shit! I'll fucking give you 'next month', jerk!_

"What did you do this time?" Mistress groans, shoving me back into a sitting position.

"We made a deal" he gloats. "He lets me cook the last of the fancy stuff in peace, and I don't get involved in any attempts at bathing him... until 'next month'."

"Of course you did" Mistress sighs, snatching Scruffy's bowl out of his hands. She tips some of it out, down by the rest of my share. " _Recompense_ , Max. And you" she says, handing it back to him. "Stop teasing my Mabari. He'd take you in a fight, if you keep pissing him off." _Damn right I will, arsehole._

"... Fine, fine" he grumbles, with a smile still intact. "It was worth it, for the look of realisation."

"He's not going to jump at people, every time we eat around a fire?" Ree asks, apparently still startled. _Nah, you're good. You're also awesome. It's only if this idiot does idiocy at me._

"Not that I ever saw" Scruffy says.

"He snapped at Alistair once, early on, but I don't think that was _food_. I hope not. But Max sure didn't want him touching that rabbit carcass" Mistress opines. _Opine... that's a fun word. I should use it more often. And the rabbit was Morrie's trophy, from when she had gone bird. As time would indeed prove, the idiot had no business touching her stuff. He wasn't worthy._

"Speaking of being Arlessa... _why_ did your brother want to give us that shovel? Official _shovel of the Arlessa,_ or whatever" Scruffy asks, glancing at his already empty bowl with some regret. _Yeah, not so fucking smart now, are you?_

"Good question" Ree affirms. "I walked out, to find the two of you trying to make the other take it."

 _They're just idiots when they're around each other for too long. It's a sibling competition thing, I believe._

"We made a joke, months ago. I should take a shovel with me, to smash any of Howe's _vipers_ still slithering around his 'snake's den'. Esmerelle, obviously, was too important for Anora to weed out. Yet..."

Scruffy tosses his bowl to one side. _Pick that_ _ **up**_ _!_ "Many others?"

"Arl Broughten gave me the names to look out for. Lady Packton was apparently in Howe's pocket. Guy _might_ have been a problem, if I weren't nobility." _Which guy? What, didn't Lord Autumn give you his name? Useless old sod he is..._ "Timothy." _Is that "Guy's" name, or some other idiot?_ "Who else did he say... the woman Howe briefly gave their lands to. Lady Morag, I think." _Who the hell is_ _ **Morag**_ _?!_

"So much for _nobility_ " Ree complains. _Right, she still has faith in nobles. It's okay, Ree; most of us are good people. Toadface just found some fellow scum._

"I'll have Eddelbrek on my side – Father always said he was a good man. We can trust _him_ , at the very least" Mistress reassures her. "Esmerelle's the only one even close to his level of influence. If we keep an eye on her, we'll know any schemes there might be."

Finishing her bowl, Mistress stands. "You're still okay for first watch?" she asks Scruffy.

"Fine" he waves. "It'll let me make some more food" he adds, to himself.

Mistress and Ree give each other awkward looks, before Ree turns and walks to her tent. "Right, then..." Mistress exhales. "Guess I should have made my apology better." _Nah, pushing the matter wouldn't work. Just wait – everything will be fine in the morning. We'll get to Amaranthine, Ree'll become a Warden proper, and we'll all be comfortably bored since the Blight's over and we killed the Darkspawn back underground, never to bother us again. Trust me, I'm a soothsayer. With so little to do, she'll have plenty of time to forgive you. Or you her; whatever the problem actually is._

* * *

 _You see? Like I said last night, today's been fine. We haven't even seen anybody on the road, so we've made great time._

"We should have met sentries by now" Ree **opines**. _Still a fun word. See? They really do keep the roads flowing here. Not even the sentries have waylaid us. If this were the capital, traffic would be backed up for ages._

Scruffy gives Mistress an angry look, and she nods. "I know... I feel it too."

 _What, the old Blight buzz? I'm getting a faint one, but I just figured it was somatic nostalgia. Like it feels so much like old times, when we were hunting Darkspawn, that muscle memory makes us think there's some nearby. No?_

We proceed up the trail, warily. Mistress curses under her breathe, Scruffy's fingers crackle with magic, and I spin my head in this other direction. _I can smell flames, now I'm sniffing for things. Something's up._

"What is it?" Ree asks, drawing her blade.

 _There!_

"There!" Mistress hisses.

"I got him" Scruffy grunts. His lightning, finely aimed, misses an approaching man's head and blasts through the chest of a Genlock that was pursuing the newcomer down the slope.

"Easy, man" Mistress says, grabbing the panicky man's shoulder. "What happened?"

"You're the Hero! Thank the Maker" he gasps, out of breathe. "I don't know what happened. I ran, when it started. All I could hear were screams and people dying!"

Mistress motions us forward, as we approach the Keep's gates. _Umm... what about_ _ **him**_ _? He's got a Warden shield, shouldn't we bring the recruit with us? Hello?_

"I'll try to to find help – there should be a patrol on the road" he stammers, before disappearing down the track. _We just_ _ **came**_ _from there, you cowardly pillock!_

"We need to move. Now" Mistress orders, as he keeps running. _Nice meeting you, I guess... Sam? He looked like a Sam. So long, Sam. I hope you burn in hell!_

"Idiot" Scruffy mutters. "He better hope there's not any more of them, out in the woods."

We both turn, and form up behind Mistress as she charges into the courtyard.

 _Alright, listen up arseholes! You may be back, but so are Team Max! Gather around, so we can kick your moron butts back to the Deep Roads yet again. We've got Ree this time, so you all stand even less of a chance with her on our side!_

* * *

 _ **And here we go - Max got past the opening cutscene!**_


	4. Familiar Faces?

_**Wherein Max agrees with the old "Awakening Anders = Alistair stand-in" reaction ... and gets paranoid about it.**_

* * *

I slam another fat Genlock flat onto his stupid butt, and pounce away as Scruffy pulls down a blast of lightning into his gut. _Just like old times, eh?_ I hear armour clank, as Mistress and Ree slice down a couple of Darkspawn who were dumb enough to charge them. Scruffy leans down, and checks on the nearest stretcher. _They're all full, looks like the Darkspawn did a number on these poor sods... and they didn't finish the job, so they must be busy killing other guards. We better make these arseholes pay!_

There's a familiar shift in the air, and I look back to see Mistress shooting a careful gaze around. _I think it's... there!_ She noticed as well, and bashes her shield out, catching the Shriek in the face as it reappears into view.

"I hate these damn things" she grunts, stabbing it in the neck. "Come on, we better clear the courtyard first."

Scruffy gives a light grin, as we follow her back into the courtyard. "Hey, boss. About that Shriek?" _Here we go again... 'arrghhh'. Happy? Is this really the best time for that stupid joke again?!_

"... Don't say it, Daylen" she sighs. "Don't start **that** again!"

"What?" Ree asks, warily eyeing the area.

Mistress shakes her head. "It's a stupid joke that him, Oghren and Alistair started."

"I'll tell you later" Scruffy offers, turning to Ree.

"No you won't" Mistress orders.

Shrugging, he mutters "Arrgggh!" to himself. Mistress just makes a disgusted noise. "What? Someone had to say it" he answers, "and you don't have Sten around to smack us across the head for saying it."

"We also don't have Oghren, so I was _hoping_ that stupid joke was dead" Mistress answers. _I see your confusion, Ree. But don't even ask... it's not worth it."_

"Yeah... about that?" Ree begins, right as the ground heavily shakes. She yells in alarm, as the usual roar follows the upheaval. _No, you only have to scream for Shrieks. This fat-arse is an_ _ **Ogre**_ _._

It bellows again, this time in pain, as Scruffy sends a crack of lightning into an eye. Mistress makes her own battle-cry, distracting it. Ree, on the literal blind side, goes into a weird crouch, before jumping. _Oh, is she... yep. Is this some special tactic everyone knows about, for killing these fatsoes?_ I wonder, as she rides him to the ground and drives her blade home. _Because I swear, every time I've seen somebody kill them, it's always this exact same move. It's used to the point of overkill. Ogrekill? Heh. Wait. Mistress! There's a guy over there!_

She follows my nose, and rushes across. "You're her!" _… These people_ _ **did**_ _know we were coming, right? Because they all seem surprised to see her._

"Easy..." she says, stopping him from trying to get up.

"It threw me" he unnecessarily notes, whimpering. _We could tell that, from the mess of shattered barrels you're lying in._

"There's medical supplies, across the courtyard. I'll... wait here." _Well that's a dumb place to keep them! Scruffy! Your turn._

"Daylen" Mistress concurs, stepping back. _Although, now he mentions it... I do hear more fighting across the way!_

After Scruffy finishes waving blue stuff over the guy, he gets up. "That'll keep him, but he still needs an injury kit. Hopefully there's some with the bandages, those other soldiers need." _Here we go again, again. Just stay there, buddy. Mages apparently can't fix_ _ **everything**_ _, so we need those injury things after a bad knock. I get the feeling they're just being lazy, myself. Biddy once cured us all from a massive fireball to our faces, by going glowy because her imaginary friend Hope or whatever came out to play. 'Oh, I can't possibly fix your aching skull from an Alpha bashing you unconscious, Sten. Use an injury kit back at camp.' Pig's arse! She just got sick of him bellyaching about 'uncollared mages'. Considering_ _ **his**_ _fashion sense, Qunie had no grounds for complaining about her clothes anyway. I know he's crazy, but did the stupid fuck_ _ **really**_ _expect us to wear fancy high-neck shirts instead of armour? He's just lucky he never insulted my kaddis, or I'd have bitten his butt... wait._ _ **Collars**_ _. That bastard! I bet his collar nonsense was him trying to plant an idea in Mistress' head, to stick that fucking Cone on me! I knew I should have destroyed that damned thing, when Shoe and I found it amongst his dad's stash._

"Max?" I hear Mistress call, as she pokes me.

 _Thanks for never sticking the Cone on me!_ I tell her, jumping up to lick her hand.

"... Okay?"

 _I do **not** like the Cone of Shame._

"Great, whatever. I still feel some Darkspawn. We need to move. **Now**."

 _True... Scruffy, why did you distract us with that Shriek bullshit? And was Ree going to say something, before? Well, I'm sure it's not that important when we've got Darkspawn in our base, killing our guys._

"Everyone split up" Mistress orders. "There's only a few, scattered; they must be picking off the survivors. Sweep the grounds, and meet back here. We'll need to check the Keep as well."

* * *

 _Grounds swept, and still no Wardens. Where the hell are they?! Well, they're Orlesian so they're probably lazy... but they can't **all** be off on leave for personal matters. They only just arrived, so I'd hope none of them are!_

"How many Orlesian Wardens were here?" Mistress asks.

"Maybe a dozen" Ree answers. "But there were other soldiers here, as well. For the Darkspawn to have ambushed them all, so effectively..."

"We'll make them pay" Mistress snarls.

"Yes... and we must find our friends" Ree adds, as Scruffy steps past her to hurl glyphs on the floor.

"Arrhgh" he says flatly, while conjuring up a magic blade again. "Heads up, more Shrieks."

Mistress waits, before striking at the first Shriek as it steps onto a Glyph. We make short work of them, since they're frozen. _Okay, I admit it's a useful trick – but I'll still bite you if you use that shit on me again, Scruffy. 'Next month' loophole or not._

"... What **is** with the fake screaming?" Ree enquires, as we catch our breathe.

Mistress gestures at Scruffy. " _Him_ and his fellow idiots would pretend to scream every time someone says 'Shriek', once it was dealt with."

"Why..." Ree continues.

" _Shriek is a prompt!_ " Mistress says in a stupid voice. "I asked at Weisshaupt, by the way... they **do** have a _lock_ name, Daylen. Sharlocks."

 _It's also because Scruffy all but pissed himself screaming, the first time a Shriek jumped out of nowhere at him. Or so Braids told me. Speaking of... were you going to say something before, when Mistress mentioned him out in the courtyard?_

"That's a boring word. No fun at all" Scruffy muses, glancing around the room. "Friends... Mac Tir and your friend, right? Which way do we go, to find them?" he asks Ree.

"I thought Loghain was still in Denerim" Mistress says to herself, as she points to a door. "The guest rooms were _that_ way, so I'm guessing that's where the Wardens would have been."

"Right – Amanda?" Ree calls, tapping her shoulder. "He wanted to surprise you, he said, but your Dwarf _friend_ , the pervert, is here. He wanted to Join as well."

"... What's everyone thinking?" Mistress mutters, waving us to follow. "I better find him, too."

"Oghren's here, then?" Scruffy smiles. "Good."

"You're _pleased_ to see him?" Ree asks. _Yeah, I don't know why anyone would be, either._

"Eh" he shrugs. "But Leliana owes me money, now. She bet that Oghren and that barmaid would last as a thing, and she'd make him settle down. I said not a chance."

… _**Dude.**_

"You'd bet on _that_?" Ree coughs, unimpressed.

"We were both drunk" he offers, defensively. "And I'd spent two days in a swamp, listening to him detail every nook and cranny where he was finding leeches, while we tracked down a crazy Dragon woman so we could kill her. So yeah, I didn't imagine anyone putting with him when I made the bet."

"... Fair point. I'm more bothered you would take someone's money so easily. That was a fool's gamble" Ree points out.

 _A fool and their money, though..._

"That's what she gets, for believing in people" Scruffy quips. "But you may be right. I'll offer her double or nothing... if I ever see her again."

"Are you done?" Mistress asks, about to kick a door open. "I hear fighting, so get ready."

 _Awesome, Braids must be here. Or this friend of Ree's. I wonder what they're like... and if they have a sweet winged helmet like her. Mistress, you should get one like that! It's awesome._

We race in... and stop, as someone roasts a Hurlock with magic. _Brilliant, another Mage! Just what..._ he turns around. _… the hell?!_

"I... didn't do it?" _We_ _ **saw**_ _you! Or did he mean the other bodies?_ "Don't get me wrong, I'm not overly broken up about them dying. Biff, there, made the funniest gurgle when he went down." _You_ _ **are**_ _, aren't you?! Shit..._

"And who the hell are you?" Mistress barks. _Just a heads up, she doesn't care for jokes about people dying. Seeing your entire castle slaughtered and going through a Blight will do that to one's sense of humour. Plus, the_ _ **other**_ _thing..._

"... Anders" Scruffy groans. "Let me guess, you got yourself caught again."

"As I'm wont to do" the new guy winks. "We were on our way back to the Tower, and they decided to stay overnight."

 _Okay, seriously. I'm **not** the only one seeing this, right? Scruffy? Mistress? … Ree? No, you didn't meet Al. _I glance up at her, anyway.

"What?" she asks back, noticing my stare. "He wasn't here when I left."

"No, you weren't" _Anders_ replies, stepping towards her with another wink. "I would have remembered such a lovely woman."

 _Careful now, boy._ Mistress must concur, as she steps out in front of our group. "We don't have time for this." _Yeah, so shut your stupid Al The Second mouth! I don't know if you're his brother or what, but the dumb jokes give it away that there's some link here..._

"True – these Darkspawn really don't leave much time for chit-chat." _Definitely related to him. Probably. Mistress – even the hair's similar!_ "Tell you what; I'll help you and you can decide afterwards what to do." _And he's also an improvident lackwit, happily leaving the decisions to Mistress out of complacency. This is getting_ _ **weird**_ _...but I guess Mistress is playing along, to find out what his game is._

We step out onto the battlements, and she motions us to freeze. "There's a group, up ahead... Mhairi, sneak up and launch that ballista at their leader while I distract them. He's an Emissary, so he'll stay back there."

"Right" Ree nods, as we continue on. The first few charge, and Mistress and I hold them from advancing on our two Mages. There's a loud crash, and some agonised squealing, before Ree rejoins us.

"Nice shot" 'Anders' opines. _No, he doesn't_ _ **get**_ _to opine. Not until I know his secrets!_

"You two stay back" Mistress orders, stepping forward to challenge the Emissary as it forces itself upright. She snarls, and does a Templar hand thingy to make it drop back down. A quick strike of her blade, and she waves the mages forward. "Better not to get you with that, as well."

"... You're a Templar?" 'Anders' says, almost accusatory. _I wouldn't point fingers, jerk. Not when you're a doppelganger or whatever._

"No, but I learnt a few tricks from one during the Blight" Mistress explains, kicking the Emissary's body out of her way. _Confess, New Guy! You're a changeling, aren't you?!_

"This is why I prefer cats" he groans, brushing off my challenge. _Ha! So you_ _ **admit**_ _you're evil?! Cat person scum!_

We step back inside... to the same room we started in. _Mistress! I thought you'd been here before? Or did Toadface design this place to be stupid?_

She pulls a lever, and the portcullis opens. _Okay, it was Toadface. Fucking moron made it so the outer hall seals off the inner rooms... thus any_ _ **invaders**_ _can lock the_ _ **defenders**_ _away. I always thought he was a moron, but apparently that was too much credit._

A small swarm of Darkspawn instantly rush out, naturally, and spot us right away. _That door was blocked... but I don't think it'll withstand this many._

"Oh, we're scared now!" _Shut up, Braids... wait, that wasn't Braids! Who_ _ **is**_ _that?_ Ree points across the hall, to some Dwarf on the opposite balcony. _Huh... where was he earlier?_ " **Don't** come up here!" he taunts, as they stare up at him. _I salute your bravado, champ, but maybe don't mock the... holy shit!_ A massive explosion wipes out the whole pack, as he simply walks away. _Okay... that was cool! He didn't even stop to look at the carnage?_ "Come again, beasties, if you dare!" _**So**_ _cool! Mistress, we have to keep that guy. I don't care who he is!_ Looking puzzled, Mistress manages to force the door open and leads us towards the now open passage.

 _Oh? We're not following King Kaboom? Well, I guess he_ _ **was**_ _going where we already were._ We pass underneath the stupid inverse portcullis, as some more Darkspawn rush out. Probably to investigate what the explosion noise was. _Spoiler: it was an explosion, morons._

With them dead, Mistress yanks open a side door. _Just a cupboard... and a servant girl inside the cupboard._ Huh. This seems familiar. _Sorry, girl, but Mistress doesn't do that kind of thing any more. She's with Ree now._

"Get to safety!" Mistress tells her. _Told you so!_

We pass through yet another door. _Hey, I think I know where we are, now! Only been here once, so I could be wrong... but I do believe the_ _ **kitchen**_ _is this way. I made sure to hunt it down, when we all came to visit. Del's Nameday one year, I think... Mistress, did we ever find out what happened to her?!_

There's the sound of familiar yelling, and smashing furniture.

"Well, we found him" Scruffy notes.

Mistress kicks the door open... and sure enough, there he is.

 _ **Braids!**_

He slices a Genlock down with an axe, then two more, and turns. _Okay, fine. Normally, I'd act nonchalant at a reunion... but that jaunty wave and grin were just too warm to simply brush off._

I rush up to help him finish the stragglers off, Mistress not far behind me. _Good to see you again, too!_

"Heh! There you are!" he beams, booting away a severed arm. "When these bastards showed up,  
I thought 'J _ust wait until the Com-manda gets here! You'll all be spitting teeth out your arses!'_ Followed the screaming, and sure enough, here you are. Good on ya!"

 _Huh – we followed it to find you._

"Oghren" Mistress says, patting his shoulder. "No offence, but why are you here?"

"Hey, you're the one who's late! Expected you days ago, boss."

" _I_ expected the other Wardens to have kicked him out, already" Ree fake-whispers – to everyone, I guess. "Or I just hoped not to see his face again."

"Ha! I know, you wanted to see something _else_ of old Oghren's" he retorts. "I'll admit, there's more to you than just a face, as well. Your great rack, for one!"

… _Go away. You ruined the reunion._

"I bet she wanted to see your butt... as you were escorted out of the building" Scruffy jabs.

"What can I say? They hate when I leave, but ladies **love** to watch me go!" Braids laughs. "I see you brought Sparklefingers and the mutt, too."

"A Dwarf that smells like a brewery... you _never_ see those" Changeling suddenly joins the conversation. _You shut up! Just because you're some weird Al copy doesn't make you part of Team Max. There's no insult allowance for you!_

"Another mage comedian? That Tower needs to smack their children harder." Braids flourishes his axe, and nods at the far door. "Now, let's go introduce some Darkspawn arses to our boots. It's only polite."

"Indeed" Mistress answers, leading the way. "Just like old times, eh?"

* * *

 _ **Mhairi's helmet**_ **is** _ **awesome, what can I say? There was no way Max wasn't going to instantly admire Dworkin, after an intro like his - he's found his new hero.**_

 _ **As always, thanks to everyone reading/following/reviewing.**_


	5. Never ask about that Birthday

_Sounds like the poor guy was right – that weird looking Darkspawn_ _ **is**_ _talking! … And he sounds like a pompous moron, trying to seem smart._

"Be taking this one, gently. We are wishing no more death than is necessary."

 _Uh-huh... that's why you just kicked an unarmed man over the fucking edge, right? Arsehole._

"As if **your** kind have ever done anything else!" _This guy's got guts. Blade to his throat, and he still tells that pig-fucker what for!_

"You are thinking you know of our kind, human?" _Blah-de-blah-blah. Let's just kill this pretentious idiot._

"Others will come, creature! They will stop you!" _Old Man is right, arsehole! Team Max is here... but soon_ _ **you**_ _will not be here!_ Mistress steps out in front of us, and stares Fancypants down, levelling her sword at him as a challenge.

"It seems your words be true, more than you are guessing." _Oh, shut your stupid face! Mistress, let's break its legs and throw it over the side, like it did to that other guy._

"It **is** talking!" Changeling gasps. _Yeah, thank you for that... even your 'dazzling' grasp of the obvious came from Al, didn't it?_

"Well, let's shut it up!" _Damn right, Braids! Break his legs!_

"Capture the Grey Wardens. These others, they may be killed!" Fancypants orders.

 _Maybe one day they will be... but not by the likes of you! We all fought the fucking Archdemon, you should know, and made it out alive; you're_ _ **definitely**_ _no Archdemon._ I look back, as we begin charging. _Well, maybe not Changeling here. For all I know, he just twinkled into existence last week. Maybe Morrie's mum had some secret resurrection spell on Al, and it misfired to also create this new idiot... does that mean there might be a second Mistress somewhere?_ _What am I asking_ _ **you**_ _for, anyway?_ I wonder, as I rip out the throat of this Genlock that Scruffy blasted to the ground. _I bet you didn't even know about Morrie. Much less her crazy dead mum..._

Fancypants growls, as we all move to surround him. _Congratulations, fuckwit. That fight you came here, looking for? You've_ _ **found**_ _it! Now, let's have a look at those legs of yours._

"You are thinking to defy the Architect's design? I will fulfil his plan!" _I am thinking about thinking to defy, actually. Furthermore, I'm thinking I don't give two shits what you're thinking about my thoughts. Screw you, and screw this Architect... especially if you mean the guy who built this place! Looping ramparts that lead back to the same room, inverted portcullis controls; the guy_ _ **had**_ _to be drinking on the job. Whatever! Point is, you're going to die now. Powerful magic or no powerful magic._

He kicks Braids away, dodging the axe but Mistress hacks away at his arm, again. Fancypants swings his shield around, either to block or knock her away... and the moron leaves his left side open. Ree severs his stupid head, and sends it flying into the side of the tower. _Nicely done. Your poor friend can rest easy. Must have been a painful way to go... I think he was delirious, too. Fancypants didn't have any magic, much less 'powerful' levels. Or is there still another one, lurking about? This Architect he mentioned..._

"Talking Darkspawn?!" Braids mutters. "They even give themselves stupid names, now. 'Architect' huh? Should have built yourself better armour" he sneers, spitting on the corpse. _That's a blacksmith, idiot!_

"That one referred to itself as the Withered, when it captured me" Old Man says, as Scruffy helps him sit up.

"So this _Architect_ must be the Mage" Scruffy muses, checking him over. "The one Rowland mentioned."

"... Where it is, then?" Changeling asks. "I mean, maybe he was using only the sword because he was low on mana, but he didn't even _try_ to cast spells. I think Amell's right, we missed one."

"I wonder" Mistress starts, looking out over the courtyard. "The amount we saw couldn't have overwhelmed a dozen Wardens, especially not with the other soldiers here. Most of them must have left, or retreated... or this Mage somehow masked their presence, and they struck before the Wardens could notice." She turns back, with a worried frown. "Regardless, this was a **targeted** strike. In and out. Planning, without a Blight. Either the Archdemon's essence wasn't as destroyed as she thought, or we're dealing with something _new_..."

"So, what should we do?" Ree asks.

Mistress sighs, and slips into her Commander face. "Mhairi, help Varel downstairs. Anders, was it?" Changeling nods in response, and she points down into the courtyard. "There's more wounded, down there. Help however you can. Oghren, take Max and find that lunatic Dwarf who was setting off explosives earlier. A trick like that will help us seal off wherever they tunnelled in. Daylen and I will start collecting bodies. They're likely all tainted, so nobody else **touch** them."

 _Sweet! C'mon, Braids. King Kaboom is awesome!_

"Is **that** what the all the rumbling and shaking was, before?" Braids asks. "And here I thought the mutt was just farting in his sleep, again!"

 _No, smartarse. The only thing that got that loud, back in the Camp days, was your snoring!_

"Or _you_ were snoring" Scruffy repeats, helping Ree get Old Man to his feet. _See? Scruffy knows what's up._

"But... I'm fine to touch the wounded people, yes?" Changeling inquires.

Scruffy considers that for a moment. "If they've got milky eyes or splotchy skin, leave them for me. I noticed during the Denerim clean-up, that it was a sign. But the eye thing wasn't always from the taint, so don't panic and kill them over it."

Changeling chuckles. "You really did become a tough old Warden, didn't you? Right then... milky eyes. Skin."

"Check their balls, too!" Braids shouts back to him. Noticing everyone glare at him, he shrugs. "What?! It makes your hair fall out, and guess which hairs go first?"

"... That's a later-stage effect" Scruffy finally groans. "Anders _doesn't_ need to worry about that. Today, at least."

"These Wardens sure know how to pick people" I hear Changeling mutter. "I hope the women are sane, unlike those two, for Ferelden's sake. "

 _Depends what kind of day Mistress is having, honestly... barring something_ _ **really**_ _weird, like a massive explosion cracking the sky open, today's probably only around 4_ _th_ _or 5_ _th_ _worst day she's ever had._

* * *

 _No, yeah. 1_ _st_ _is definitely when Toadface attacked. 2_ _nd_ _is most likely Ostagar... 3_ _rd_ _, I think she'd say the Landsmeet. Between Al being a prick and whatever Perv told her in secret, she was a mess afterwards. Like when she had to kill Demon Boy, in Red Cliff. That makes 4. So... which one is 5_ _th_ _? An entire castle of dead guys, another one I mean, and weird verbosity Darkspawn lurking out there... granted, she's not crying this time; but this_ _ **still**_ _seems worse than her fifteenth birthday. Regardless of weeping._

Hmm? _Does everybody else hear that?_ Mistress looks up, as she heaves the last body on the pile. "Daylen, don't light it yet."

"Sounds like horses. Reinforcements?" he asks, letting his hand flames extinguish.

 _Maybe... what was his name, again? Steve? No, Sam! I guess Sammy found soldiers after all? Well done, ser. I apologise for my 'burn in hell' remark._

We head over, and join Ree and Braids by the gate. Changeling and King Kaboom look up from a cart, as we approach.

"So I guess I shouldn't conjure fire around this stuff?" Changeling grins, while Kaboom reseals the lid on a barrel.

Kaboom slaps his hand away. "Don't even think about it, boy!" he warns. "Two of these barrels could probably level that entire fortress of yours." _And I count... 6. Yeah, get that fucking freak away from your Kaboomy stuff. Dane only knows what_ _ **he**_ _might do with it._

"Duly warned" Changeling offers, holding his hands up as he backs away. "I've certainly no need to level _any_ buildings, much less something that size." _Good. Let's keep that way, weirdo. No Kabooming buildings, got it?!_

The door on the nearest building opens, and Old Man comes out. _Ah, good. Looks like he got out of the armour and cleaned himself up, like Mistress said. Less chance of him getting sick from being around those Darkspawn._

He offers some papers to Mistress. "Commander, I prepared those missives you wanted."

"Thank you, Varel. I asked at the perfect time, it seems" she answers, as the people come into view. "The Royal guard, like I thought."

She and Old Man kneel, with Scruffy and Ree following suit. Braids and Changeling just stand there, like disrespectful idiots. _Kaboom... is gone. He must be storing his stuff away, safe from Changeling. Good call._

The guards pass under the gate, and finally spread out. _There she is! Salutations, Gnawer._ I sit back, in respect. _Oh, you brought Nail with you. Yay? And Sam_ _ **is**_ _there, at the back. Who's this, then? Some armoured woman... oh, the skirt. A Templar. My Queen, I apologise for these two dimwits not bowing... wait. I almost forgot!_

"It seems we arrived too late, to be of assistance" I hear Gnawer say, motioning Mistress to stand as I rush off. _Nah, it's okay. It's better_ _ **you**_ _weren't here, for the shit that was going on._ I keep looking about, while half-listening to them. _There we go!_ I grab it, and run back.

"No spitting, Oghren" Mistress replies, to... something Braids must have said.

"Ha! That's what I always tell them!" _I'm sure I don't want to know._

"Uh-huh. Good luck with that" Changeling tells him.

Templar Woman steps forward. "Queen Anora! This man is a dangerous criminal! Beware."

 _Who, Braids? He's a bit of an arse, and smells like one, but I wouldn't go **that** far._

"I beg your pardon?" Gnawer asks, finally looking at the others.

"She means me" Changeling responds. _Ah, yes. Impersonation, identify theft, and a suspected mountebank imposter. Take him away, officer! Wait, apparently he murdered someone too?! Probably to pose as them! I think Templar Woman's right. Hang him!_

"But those Templars were already... oh, why bother? You won't believe me..." he complains. _Shut your gob!_

"I suppose there isn't much more to say" Gnawer muses, looking concerned for some reason. "... Unless you have something to add, Commander." _Nah, we're cool. In fact... Gnawer!_ _ **You**_ _should take him. If the weirdo wants to pretend to be Al, here's your chance to finally execute "him" after all. What do you say? Just make sure the headsman uses an_ _ **iron**_ _axe – he's likely a Changeling!_

"He did help us, when he could have run" Mistress answers. "And he did **not** kill those other Templars. There's no need to kill him."

 _Wait... how did Templar Woman even_ _ **know**_ _they were did?! We didn't mention them yet. For all she should have known, they could be off having a picnic! Or whatever Templars do for fun._

"Then I wish for him to be shown leniency" Gnawer declares. "I _shall_ let the Grand Cleric and Knight-Commander know of the Hero's testimony" she adds, noticing Templar Woman's jaw slightly grind at the idea.

"... As Her Majesty wishes." _Some advice, lady? This time, put him in **iron** chains! He's secretly a Changeling - **that's** how he keeps escaping! Tell Greggy that Lord Maxwell recommends iron chains. I saved the Tower for Knight-Commander Greggy during the Blight, he'll know to listen to me._

As she drags Changeling away, Nail finally joins us. "Well, if you have everything under control... I must be on my way" Gnawer announces, giving him a resigned look.

"One moment, please, my Queen" Mistress says, holding up Old Man's letters. "There is one more thing."

After Gnawer agrees, Mistress leads the two of them to the same building Old Man came out of. "I'll need you to witness these, just in case. One's for Weisshaupt, and one for Montsimmard."

She turns to Nail. "Seeing as how everyone's dead, as Warden-Commander of Ferelden, I'm revoking your transfer. The apparent leader of this attack escaped, so I need everyone I can muster. I won't just wait and hope they send reinforcements before another assault."

Gnawer simply nods, while Nail frowns. "I hope you're prepared for them to demand I leave, anyway. You'd have had less of a headache if you had instead conscripted that look-alike?" They both glance at him. "What? Don't pretend you didn't notice." _Exactly, Nail!_ _ **Thank**_ _you!_

"Anyway" Mistress says, changing the subject. "I did consider recruiting Anders... but no. He thought watching those Templars be slaughtered was a laughing matter, so clearly he's no interest in saving others at risk to himself. That's not Warden material. If I tried, he'd likely get bored of it and try escaping from _us_ as well." _Not going to say what Scruffy whispered, when you asked him about the guy? 'He's a fucking liability!' was his professional opinion, and he knew Changeling from Mage School._ Mistress continues, "Regardless, one of the recruits survived long enough to give me a report... this 'Architect' is a powerful Mage, so I may likely need Templar assistance. Recruiting Anders against their wishes would have been contrary to securing cooperation." _True. One idiot, back in their custody, is a small price to pay._

"Architect?" Gnawer asks, confused. _Huh... now_ _ **Nail's**_ _jaw is grinding. What's up, buddy?_

"That's what the head Darkspawn called their apparent leader. Yes, they're talking now, and not just the broken threats Emissaries grunt. _Conversation_. Something is most certainly astray, make no mistake" Mistress says, stiffly.

"The attack already proved that" Gnawer concurs, "but _this_ is beyond what I could have thought. I agree; Father, you'll be needed here." She signs, and presses her signet ring onto, both missives. " Old Man leans over, and signs them as well. _I didn't even notice him follow us!_ "And I grant you _full_ freedom to resolve this emergency, **Arlessa**. If Esmerelle or Morag try anything, amidst the chaos... _handle_ them without delay" She decrees, icily. _Who the hell is **Morag**?! _Adopting a warmer tone, Gnawers extends a hand to Old Man. "Allow me to send these for you. I shall continue on to Highever, to inspect the restoration efforts, and have my official couriers speed them away... should I tell your brother anything?"

Sighing, Mistress slightly shrugs. "I don't even know what would make sense, to him. It barely makes sense to me. I suppose that will be up to your discretion. Tell him... I'm going to be busy, and 'send a bigger shovel'. He'll understand that much, at least."

We all begin walking out, after saying farewells. At the door, Nail grabs Mistress by the arm. " **We** need to talk. In private." He glances out, and spots Scruffy walking back from the body-pit. "Boy! You get in here, now."

I see Scruffy say something to Ree, before he walks over. He's about to greet Nail, before getting dragged inside. _Well, that's just damned rude!_ I opine, as the door slams shut in my face. _Careful, arsehole! You almost hit the... oh, shit! Gnawer! Wait up._ I rush over, just as she's about to enter her carriage. _Wait!_ She stops, noticing me approach. _In honour of your Royal Majesticness, my Queen!_ I carefully let the stick down, making sure not to lick it. She pauses for a moment, before picking it up with a smirk of recognition. "Ah, yes. Of course. I shall add this to my Royal sceptres" she declares, before graciously rubbing my head. _I'm most honoured, my Queen. I_ _ **knew**_ _you appreciated this gesture, the first time!_

* * *

 ** _A/N: Finally, Anora gets her stick! The mystery of Morag continues, and Team Max gains a member - probably not the one expected. I should probably throw it out there, now: I didn't do another Zev, like last time; Anders' part isn't over, but don't expect him to resurface for a while. Depends on if they used iron chains..._**

 ** _Thanks to all the readers/followers, and Melysande for reviewing. (I finally noticed your name next to Guest, sorry about that.)_**


	6. There's only room for one Mistress!

**_A shorter chapter, this time, but I hit the natural end-point and didn't want to drag it out. That's one of my rules, like "Mistress' ability to understand Max is fluid, depending on if I can get a joke out of it"; which also comes into play this chapter._**

* * *

 _You alright, Mistress? You've just been sitting here for a while...I'm guessing Nail told you one hell of a story. Did it have griffons?! … No, you wouldn't look so perturbed if it had. But you don't seem as bad as after whatever Perv told you._

"Commander" Old Man begins, walking over.

Mistress pulls herself up, and nods. "Varel. Are they ready?"

"We've gotten the last of the survivors loose, from where the Wardens barricaded them for safety. There's several you should speak with, so I had them gather in the hall."

"Quick to retake your role as Seneschal?" Mistress lightly smiles. "Good to see."

"You know, then?" he asks.

"I don't believe I visited, during your tenure for Howe, but I remembered your name. He used to rant about your _insolence_ ; that's actually an excellent token of your good character, so I look forward to working with you" Mistress replies, her smile slightly widening.

"Insolence. Was that his word for it?"Old Man groans. "Whatever you call it, it got me thrown into the cells. For questioning _simple_ matters – compared to his later, darker plans. I never imagined what he had in mind..."

"My family knew him for decades, and it would have never entered our bleakest nightmare. But even Thomas realised he had gone mad and tried to escape, in the end. I found him, left for dead by his father's men, if you didn't hear" Mistress says, as we walk.

"I... had not. I hoped he had vanished for his own safety. There's still no word on the other two, so now I just pray they didn't meet a similar fate."

"I managed to locate Delilah, actually" Mistress notes, stopping.

"Truly? Finally, some good news!"

 _You said it, brother. Everyone liked Del. This must have been while I was in the breeding kennels?_

Mistress grins at his response. "She went to ground during the Blight, in Amaranthine itself. Hiding in plain sight from her father's associates, but let's just say I know better contacts." _Chirpy, right? Or that smelly guy from the market. I bet he'd know how to find someone._ "We had a polite reunion, all things considered. Which just leaves Nathan – my brother told me he didn't leave on good terms, and it **has** been nearly a decade. But I do wonder."

 _Oh, right. The old mystery Howe, occasionally spoken of in whispers as a half-remembered curiosity. He was well before my time, so I never really gave a shit. Guy better stay exiled, unless he should want his butt bitten._

"Still _loitering_ around the Starkhaven court in between training, at least the last time I heard Howe complaining about him" Old Man adds.

 _What the hell is that smell?!_

Mistress must notice it as well, because I see her nose twitch. "I'll be inside shortly. I just need to check with my colleague."

Old Man does that half bow of politeness thing, and enters the hall. _Scruffy... I think your spices have gone bad. This cooking pot smells like shit! Uh – did you just pour_ _ **blood**_ _into that?! The fuck are you doing?_

"So" he starts, as we approach. "That was certainly a story he told."

"Wasn't it just? After today, though, I believe it" Mistress sighs. "Why do all the bizarre ancient impossibilities come my way?"

"Blame the bloodlines? Families like ours always make a big deal out of them... perhaps the Maker decided to test if that _actually_ makes us special."

 _We already killed werewolves back in the Black Age – the stupid prick didn't need to try forcing Mistress to do it again! Joke's on him, though; Creepy Tree Lady and Egghead found another way to solve things. But then that Maker jerk let lunatic cult-people occupy his own wife's tomb or whatever, just for 'good measure'. "Oh, you fostered peace in a centuries old feud? Welcome to Murder Town! I better see some blood_ _ **this**_ _time!" Mistress had already done well enough that he hurled down that star rock for making her a super-sword, right? But the moron had to keep testing her? Get a real hobby, you jerk!_

"Still" Scruffy continues, "I never thought about their similarities, before Mac Tir brought it up. Born to a Mage, in the Anderfels... he always did moan about his mother giving him away. I don't know, maybe they _were_ twins."

"Don't you start with this" Mistress groans. "I've got enough shit to puzzle out, I don't need Al's maternal lineage on top."

 _Ohhh... so he's_ _ **not**_ _a Changeling! Him and Al were litter-mates? 'Anders' – wait, didn't Al say_ _ **he**_ _was raised in the Anderfels? Well, there you go! Proven beyond any possible uncertainty._

"... No, Max. There is no tribe of talking dogs, that raise foundlings! He made that up, and I don't need stupid jokes on top of the _real_ crap I'm trying to process" she shakes her head. _Oh, we've seen_ _ **way**_ _weirder shit than a dog nursery! Don't be so cynical, it'll give you wrinkles._ " **No**. Teagan raised him, remember?" _Pish-posh, my dear! Flying nanny dogs and surprise siblings is a much better story. That's my new head-canon, and I_ _ **will**_ _fight you on this._

"Damn it, Alistair..." she mutters. _Ha! You haven't said that in months! This really **is** like the old days!_ We go quiet and watch as Scruffy adds some more weird crap to whatever he's brewing. "You found everything alright, then?" Mistress asks.

"The Wardens had plenty of stock" Scruffy replies. "And I got _fresh_ Darkspawn blood, since there was plenty of it around. I think Varel expected to handle this, and seemed disappointed I took over. That Orlesian woman just followed me around the stores, watching what I took. Muttering about how I should only use the bare minimum of ingredients until the roads are cleared... and she already knew what I needed; so I'm guessing she's one of those observers for the First Warden, like you expected."

"Why would a non-Warden even prepare..." Mistress trails off. "No matter, at the moment. If he's offended, I'll apologise; but I'd rather let you prepare the Joining, since you've done it before. Especially _this_ Joining." She glances across the courtyard, to where Ree's helping unload a wagon. "Daylen..."

"I know" he says, not looking up. _Uh, Mistress? He already looks worried, nearly as much as you do, so you probably shouldn't badger him._

"... Okay. I trust you with it" she whispers, patting his shoulder. _Yeah, we should probably let him focus on... this. With the blood and the shiny stuff and the stink._

We get inside, approaching King Kaboom as he's leading a group of soldiers, all rolling barrels. _Are you Kabooming something?! Can I_ _ **watch**_ _?_

"Collapsing the tunnels?" Mistress asks.

"Aye! We found them all, Warden" Kaboom grins. "... Won't be anything impressive to watch. Just as well, tunnel blocking is much too noisy so you have to retreat anyway."

 _Damn._

"Excellent. I'll leave it in your capable hands" she waves, letting them get back to work as we continue toward the Hall.

 _Huh, Old Man has some underlings already. I wonder if he threatens to skin them alive? That's how Nan kept her minions in check, and it worked. Mostly. Of course, she'd say the same thing to me and we both knew she was kidding. I'm just too loveable. Wait, this guy's Captain of the Guard?_

I give him a sneaky sniff. _Okay... he doesn't_ _ **smell**_ _like a coward. So then where the fuck were you during the Darkspawn raid, arsebutt?! Clearly not doing your damn job, that's for sure._

 _How about you, lady?_

"The First Warden sent me to" _and blah blah blah. Scruffy was right, she's the spy. At least she's egotistic enough to figure out. 'Oh, dog lords can't do maths so_ _ **I'm**_ _here to handle the money! Sacre bleu!' And of course she looks annoyed that Old Man called her on insulting everyone to our faces like she did. If The Occupation taught us anything, it's that Orlesians are shit at managing stuff abroad. We wouldn't have had to rebel, if you lot_ _ **could**_ _handle our money trustfully. Did she say Woolsey? I met a Woolsey, in Red Cliff. I think that's what he said his name was – I'm not really fluent in Sheep. It's a tricky tongue. Any relation? Maybe an uncle or someone was in Red Cliff during The Occupation, and he had a thing for farm animals?_ _ **Something**_ _was up with that ram – he smelled dishonest, like that fucking pretend cat-thing in Honnleaf, and seemed to be hiding an anger problem. Huh. Lady, I... look, there's probably no polite way to phrase this, so I'm just going to ask. Are you a_ _ **satyr**_ _? If I were to rip your dress, there would be goat legs underneath?_

Mistress shoots me a dirty look, while Lady Goat keeps talking about trade routes. _What?! She was rude_ _ **first**_ _! Coming in here, calling all Fereldans thieves and demanding to be called 'Mistress' Woolsey! There's only room for one Mistress, thank you very much. If you have a problem with it, Goat, go headbutt a scarecrow!_

"... Go mess around, Max. Go bother Oghren or something" Mistress says, nudging me with a foot. _Oh, sorry. I was doing that thing where you're at risk of laughing in a conversation, because of what I'm saying about the other people? Okay, fine... just remember – 'satyr' rhymes with 'traitor'; and Lady Goat's already Orlesian so that's like triple untrustworthy! Plus, her family are evidently a long line of goatfuckers. And the occasional sheep, judging by 'Lord' Woolsey down south._

" **Max** " she hisses, now visibly biting her lip while she kicks me.

 _Ow! Okay, I'm going! … What kind of pretentious sheep calls itself a 'Lord', anyway?_

"Sorry... where were we?" I hear her ask.

 _'The trade must flow' I think? Lady Goat was saying something about hiring traders. Or did she mean 'traitors'? I'm gonna be watching you, Orlesian goat-bitch! This Keep ain't big enough for_ _ **two**_ _Mistresses!_

Mistress gives me the Evil Eye, so I run off down the hallway.

 _Yeah, I was probably pushing my luck by the end. I should go find the kitchen, and eat now before Mistress can order 'no dinner!' for my acting up._

I'm still pondering the kitchen, and where to find it, when I spot Scruffy coming towards me. Carrying some kind of goblet. _That damned mixture smells even worse, now. No wonder Ree and Braids are walking behind him, inside of side by side._

"Wish me luck, mutt" Braids gleefully smirks, while Ree seems more the nervous kind of excited. I nudge her hand, as she passes. _You'll do great! So when you're done, come find me and we'll go get some food._

"... Thank you. It's finally time" she says quietly, rubbing my ear.

 _Kick the Joining's butt, Ree!_

* * *

 **A/N: Yes, I know the ram's name is Lord Wools** _ **ley**_ **, but the joke was too low-hanging not to be plucked. Now I wish I had written him into the original story, during Redcliffe, complete with Max trying to talk Sheep. Still, I got a callback to Kitty out of it. (And snuck in an unrelated call _forward_ , for much, much later. _Between DA2 and Inquisition_ later.)**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	7. Abstraction is an endless foe

**_Sorry about missing last week - had some bad news to process._**

* * *

 _Well, as unnerving as an empty castle is, with all the quiet... it does let one find neat stuff in peace. Like the side corridors, where they make deliveries so the main rooms aren't blocked, which also lead to the kitchen back entrances most cooks don't bother watching. Or how to slip the pantry doors open with a paw. You gotta know the secret angle, but it's all golden once you find it._

I take another sniff.

 _It_ _ **would**_ _be golden, I mean; if it weren't Orlesian food. If Lady Goat's right about trade hassles on the road, I guess we better get out there and handle it. Get some_ _ **proper**_ _food in here. And in my belly. I mean, that shelf smells like snails or something. Maybe we can trick Braids into eating slugs, but it's probably better to just hurl that shit into the offal pit. Orlesians are weird – they eat garden pests, and adopt_ _ **bogles**_ _as pets. Or was that just Chirpy's particular peculiarity?_

Regardless, I abandon the smell of dried snails to get some fresh air. _Oh, right. I guess Scruffy hasn't cleaned the Darkspawn blood from this walkway. I suppose nobody would be coming up here just yet, so he focused on making blood soup. Is that a Kirkwall thing, like chewing snails? Why are everyone but Fereldans insane? Is it because they don't have Mabari, to guide them to enlightenment?_

 _Their hounds are... what did she say? 'Tiny, bred to fit under your arm.' No wonder the poor bastard went mad and bit anyone who wandered past. And calling him **Bon Bon** would have tipped him from madness to raging lunacy... I bet they fed him nothing but snails, too! _

This bloodstain was the verbosity Darkspawn, I think. _So, talky magic Darkspawn... how does that even work? Did they get some nattering old woman Mage to teach them, and she neglected to tell them when to shut up? … Holy shit, we better check on **Fusspot**! They might have taken her, she fits the description too much! She never knew when to shut up, herself. But she's got Rumble with her, right? I'm sure she's fine. Hang on... when they all came back, from hunting Braids' wife. All that talk about Darkspawn getting women pregnant. I try to not think about that shit, if it's true... but maybe these ones inherited proper speech. But why didn't any of the others we've seen before now?Wait... if the theory is even true, then how can **Genlocks** do magic?! They'd be half-Dwarf, right? Dwarves don't do magic! Thus, they aren't Dwarves. In your face, Fusspot! I just completely sank your stupid theory. Which proves Darkspawn don't kidnap women for broodmares, so I don't have to worry about picturing that in a nightmare. Stupid old cow. I bet she said that just to freak me out._

Whatever. This balcony is boring, when there's nothing up here to fight; except one's doubts and unease. _Let's get back inside, and see what's happening, with Team Max. Hmm – should I still call us that, now that the group is only Wardens? I didn't like calling us 'The Wardens', back in the Blight because all our friends, and Qunie, weren't Wardens but still helped us plenty. It belittled their efforts. But I guess now we can be the Grey Wardens? The Grey_ _ **Warriors**_ _? Since everyone but Scruffy is a Warrior? But it might still be impolite, since we've got the troops and those three_ _advisors._ _Lady Goat can go eat a boot, for all I care, and the Guard Captain was apparently taking a snooze during the attack... but Old Man is a decent chap. Shouldn't be rude to him... okay, then! We're still Team Max!_

 _The Advisers Three were back in that room, I saw Nail from the balcony, so I guess he's still out in the courtyard with the soldiers... sounds like someone's in the kitchen?_ I push my way in.

"Ha! _Here's_ the crunchy things!" Braids takes out a tray of them, and sits down. _Hey, you should know those are... actually,_ _ **do**_ _eat them. They are totally not slugs..._

"You want a snail, mutt?" he asks, noticing me. "You prefer raw stuff, right? And crunchy? They're crunchier, the less they're cooked."

 _Yeah – not on your life._

He scoffs at my faux-gagging. "You should try _expanding_ your tastes. Felsi got me to adopt a more nourishing diet, and it improved my sodding vitality!" _Well, look who finally learned to read the tool-tips! Good for you, but I only get the Talent window so I couldn't spec Skill points for Improved Vitality even if I wanted to... whoops! Sorry, everyone! I mean: She got you to eat better, huh? Nice – but if you're here now, you guys aren't together anymore? That's a shame._

"A man's got to look after himself. Healthy mind, healthy body, dog! Those Orlesians may have been poncy nug-sniffers, but they know their food!"

 _You're out of your mind! I'm leaving._

"Go check on the boss, too!" he shouts after me. I'm almost to the hall, when I realise. _If he's awake, then Ree will be, as well! Let's go!_

Bursting into the hall, I spin about to check every corner, and notice him at the table. _Scruffy! Where are they?_

He looks up, from a parchment. "... I think she went down that way" he points. _What are you moping about, you sadsack? The Joining's done, so let's all get some food! Non-snail food._ "Hopefully she'll talk to **you**."

 _Whatever, idiot. You keep being glum, while we celebrate. Non-snail food! I can't emphasise that enough._

* * *

I follow the hallway Scruffy showed me. _I think I hear Nail._

"... what else to say? She accepted-"

"Shut up, already" I faintly hear Mistress whisper. _Hey, Mistress!_ I wander in, and glare at Nail. _Is this arsehole bothering you? Say the word, and I'll chase him out._

I'm not sure she noticed me, staring at the rug like that, so I plop a paw on her knee. _Still no reaction? Ree, do you know what's up?_ Where is Ree, anyway? Her helmet's on that desk, so she must have come in here. I doubt she could fit under the bed, with Mistress sitting on it, so is she in the wardrobe? _I didn't think she acted that dumb, but you never know._

I rest my head on Mistress' knee, and she finally puts a hand on my neck, but it feels more like a reflex response. _Mistress... you're starting to worry me. Where's Ree?_

"Max." _Yes, I'm Max. And you're my Mistress, so talk to me already! Where_ _ **is**_ _she?!_

She chokes something back, and rubs my ear. "... No." _That's not an answer! Just tell me she's fine, and I'll believe you!_ _ **Say it!**_

"I'll handle it, if you want. I just thought you should know" Nail offers, breaking the silence.

"... Why are they locked up?" she replies, still whispering.

"He broke in a few nights back. 'Took four Wardens to capture him, and he gave one a black eye.' Sounds tough" Nail comments. _Sounds like he needs a_ _ **rope**_ _! If he hadn't injured them, they might have fought well enough to survive the raid. For all we know, the Darkspawn got in through a door he broke open!_

Mistress groans, and pushes us both to our feet. "Fine. I'll get my dagger, and go down."

"You decided that, quick?"

She angrily grabs her weapons, and shoves past him without a word. _I'll go with her, Nail. She'd be making the right call, even if Ree..._ _ **shit.**_ _She really is dead, isn't she?!_ I follow her, through the corridors.

She stiffens up, when we hear Braids screaming from the main hall. _What now?_ "Pants that eat your **eyeballs**!" suddenly echoes down the corridor.

 _Fucking hell, he's drunk already? It's not even noon! … And I only saw him barely ten minutes ago. So much for his healthier living._

We enter the room, and spot Braids in the corner. _By the keg, of course._ Scruffy leans in and says something to him. "That Jacob's gonna pay, when I get my hands on him!" Braids shouts again.

Mistress seems to bristle, as we pass them. "Trouble, boss?" Braids asks.

"Just an execution. I'll handle it" she responds, sounding like she had to force it out.

Looking back, I notice Scruffy sigh and walk back to the table. _Is he still going over that parchment? Must be hard to figure out, whatever it is._

"... Leave it, kid" I hear from Braids, as the door swings shut behind us. "They said there's no way to know..."

* * *

We reach the courtyard, and a soldier steps out in front. I get the feeling she wants to say something, but Mistress cuts her off. "Dungeons?"

"That way" she answers, holding up some papers. "I have messages for you, Commander."

"Later" Mistress replies, heading across the courtyard.

 _Wait, the dungeon is just a shack **outside** the Keep? Man, the design for this place is dumb. _We get inside, and a guard greets us. _Not even a basement prison! Idiots._

"Ah, Commander! Good men died, while this one was locked up safe in his cell." _I knew it! Twas his fault after all. I'll fetch a rope._

"And you didn't execute him already?" Mistress coldly asks, as we walk.

"They said it was your decision, Commander. Technically, he's _only_ a thief..." _Fine – we stick him in a crow's cage then. That's what they did to the thief at Ostagar._

We're almost to the bars, when Mistress suddenly stops dead. "... Leave us" she orders after a moment, eyes locked on the prisoner.

The guard bows, and walks off. _Is everything alright, Mistress? You seem even odder, now._

The thief glares up, as she gets closer to the cell. "If it isn't the great hero. Conqueror of the Blight and vanquisher of all evil..." _Well, I don't think_ _ **all**_ _evil can ever be stopped. Abstraction is an endless foe. But Mistress is still pretty amazing._ She locks her feet in place, and stares him down. He scoffs a second time. "Aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall, with lightning bolts coming out of your eyes?!" _Okay, now you're being stupid... you'd burst your eyeballs doing that! And then Braids' pants-monsters or whatever would get hungry and rip you apart in anger._

"I haven't grown that much, while you were gone..." she answers, sounding carefully neutral. _Yeah! Don't let this jerk get to you, whoever the hell he is._ "Nathan." _Who?_ "Despite what they say about me, in the taverns."

"They make you sound like Moira, reborn" he snarls. _Who the hell is Mo... wait, no. He said 'Moira', not 'Morag'. Hear that, Mistress? You're up there with the Rebel Queen! Personally, I think you're even better, but I'm probably biased._ " **I** , however, know you best as my father's murderer!"

… _Yeah, that doesn't sound as good. But everyone we killed was an arsehole, so your father no doubt had it coming, jerk. Deal with it!_

"He brought it on himself" she curtly replies. _Told you, moron!_

"My father fought against the Orlesians!" _So did everyone else back then! It doesn't make him special, whoever the fuck he was. That stopped being an excuse for Toenail's bullshit, so your idiot father definitely can't use it anymore!_ "And yet we lost everything... I came here to kill you, I thought" he fires back. _Okay, fuck the crow's cage_ _ **and**_ _the rope. I'm gonna get Braids to chop his stupid head off! He's still got the_ _axe_ _we took off of Chief Crazy's body, up in the Murdertown caves. That'll behead anyone in one go. Nobody threatens Mistress while I'm here!_ He leans back against the wall, defeated. "But I realised I just want some of my family's things. That's all I have left."

 _Why the hell would your stuff be here, anyway? Who even **is** this arsehole? Mistress, you seem to know him! _I get closer, and give him a proper stare. _Ugly looking bastard, isn't he? And he's lazy – he stopped shaving when he was **almost** done. That's not even a good style, buddy. In fact, it makes you look like... wait. Wait just a damned minute, here!_ I must have growled in realisation, because Mistress forces me back with one foot. _Well, shit. You're Toadface's mystery kid! Let me bite his butt before we drag him to the chopping block, Mistress! I swore a vague notion that I would, if he ever showed his face!_

Mistress steps back a little, as well, and begins to pace. "I suppose he _wouldn't_ have bothered taking your things, to Denerim."

"... Look, I don't know what happened with your family. It sounded horrible." _Nice suger-coating, prick!_ "I imagine the entire Blight was. But his actions made us all pariahs. I couldn't even find out what happened to my brother and sister. _We_ don't deserve this."

That stops Mistress in her tracks. She glances down at her dagger, and back at the cell, just as footsteps approach. The guard and Old Man join us.

"So this is the prisoner, then?" Old Man notes. _You worked with Toadface, right? Well, take a close look..._

Mistress does her little nervous shaking thing, with her fingers. "... Have the guards escort him to the cellars, and let him retrieve what he wishes. Then release him outside the grounds."

 _ **What?**_

"What?"

" _What_?!"

 _Yeah, see? Even Old Man and Little Toadface don't believe what you just said!_

"Commander! I must object! You wish to let a thief keep what he stole?" _That's not even the fucking issue here!_

"You can't _steal_ what's yours" she answers. "Varel, take a closer look at him."

Old Man peers in, and shakes his head. "... That's more reason not to release him!" _Thank you! This is stupid!_

"You do know I'll probably come back here" Little Toadface asks in shock. "They may not stop me, next time." _You just said you **didn't** want to kill her! Pick a fucking story and stick to it, moron. Or do you want to be executed? Because I'm all for that idea; let's make it happen._

"Then you better make your first strike **count** " Mistress sighs. "Even the Archdemon only got _one_ chance." She fingers the Warden amulet around her neck. "Go live your life, instead. Too many people can't..."

Shaking his head, the guard opens the cell. "Come on, then..." _Make sure you bring more than four guys, this time._

As he's being unshackled, Mistress looks over. "Do you remember how to get to the market district, in Amaranthine?"

"Past the Chantry, and around a few corners? I'm sure the _noise_ gives it away" Little Toadface answers, warily.

"True... " she says, wearily. "I'm not sure if there's more than one, but ask for the blacksmithy where Albert works. It was near the middle of the market."

"I don't know any Albert?" _**Shut up**_ _and let her finish!_

"When you find it, ask to see Lilith" Mistress adds. "I don't think Delilah's gone back to using her name in public, yet."

He shoots Mistress a look of disbelief, before Guard shoves him to move. Old Man follows them out, while Mistress remains still. _Or not – she's starting to shake._

 _Mistress?_

"... Can you go guard the door, Max? I - I think I need a minute alone."

 _Right you are._


	8. The apples of the valley

"I knew we shouldn't sent the Dwarf in... this is taking too long." _Shut up, Nail – you had your chance earlier, and blew it. Probably because your response to losing troops is always just to blame the Orlesians, whether or not they were even involved. That especially doesn't work when the lost troops_ _ **were**_ _Orlesian! Okay, not Ree, but that's something only a friend can help with. And Mistress hates you, if you hadn't noticed. Well, 'hate' might be overstating things, I guess. She doesn't_ _ **like**_ _you. I don't like you either, so just watch yourself. I'll bite your butt if you try to get in._

"I imagine she's back to not speaking to me, and she doesn't respect you" Scruffy replies "so Oghren's our only real shot."

 _Exactly – I would have, but she told me to guard the door. So I'm guarding this door until she's **ready** to come out._

"You actually think she respects the Dwarf?" Nail sighs, unconvinced.

"... Yeah, I don't get it either" Scruffy shrugs. "But he can give good advice. When he's not screaming nonsense about Schleets."

… _About **what**? What the fuck are schleets?!_

Nail glances over, scratching his chin. "Schleets?"

"Yeah – someone told him some garbage about killer-"

"I know about Schleets" Nail holds up a hand. S _o... they're real? That killer pants bullshit isn't bullshit?!_ "We used to tell the story to foreign mercenaries, during the War. And after it, we'd tell the young recruits who had clearly never been outside Denerim." He rubs his thumb against two fingers. "... I haven't heard that one for nearly ten years."

 _They must be coming back – like the Dragons! No wonder Braids was so paranoid about his pants during the Blight! Always worried someone would steal them... and replace them with Schleets. While Al, the fat moron, didn't care if he got stranded in the woods and his **real** pants went missing! How would pants-monsters even repopulate their numbers, though? I've seen people struggle to thread a needle, and pants don't have fingers so they'd have no bloody chance. Are... are they in league, with someone?! _I sit back, and give a cautious stare at the nearby trees.

 _Some lunatic, out in the wilderness? Wait... those robes we found, after killing Morrie's mum. We showed them to her, because they looked like her usual outfit. She sensed an enchantment, right? To sap the wearer's willpower, she said. Okay, they were robes, not pants. And she's dead now. But what if there's some **other** crazy grey-haired woman, out there? In league with the Schleets. She might be making more and more of them, and imbuing them with the ability to take over minds! One day, she'll rise up and send her evil clothes army to enslave the world! Hell, we only stopped Morrie's mum because she warned us to kill her first. Unless this new insane weirdo has a daughter or two to help us stop her, we're in big trouble... _I give my butt a grateful look. _Luckily, we Mabari must have known about the Schleets and that's why we forsook the vanity of clothes. Not counting the time Mistress dressed me up to make Furgus' pup laugh. I hated that stupid hat. I don't know if we can fight the Schleets, on our own. We should probably start a secret army of Nudists, and keep them hidden somewhere, so the evil silver-haired woman won't know. A beach? Is a beach a good place for a militia of Nudists?_

I jump, as the door opens behind me. _Hold on your_ _ **pants**_ _, boys! They're coming for us! Oh... it's just Braids._ "Gimme that note, about the farmers."

"They aren't-" Nail starts to correct him, when Braids grabs the letter out of his hand.

"Ha! I've almost talked her around... now I just dangle this in front of her. A rescue mission, and chance to bust some skulls, and she'll be back on her feet!"

The door slams shut, and Nail lets out a grunt.

"Good, then" Scruffy shrugs. "... What's this about farmers?"

"They're _not_ farmers" Nail grumbles.

 _Shut up, idiot. I think I can hear Mistress' armour clinking, so she must be coming!_

"Great fun, boss" Braids concludes whatever he was saying, as the door opens. "It'll be just like when you showed up, and saved _my_ hide. Remember?" _You mean yesterday?_ "I still gotta thank you for that, too. That guy... he was all **rraggh!** So I was **Grrrh!** But then I got hit with an arrow! And then I fell over – everything was **meep!** But you burst in, with a **Wrahhhahah!** Spectaculous!" _That's not even a word... and what the hell is 'meep'?!_

Mistress offers him a faint lip-twitch, in place of a smile. "You're welcome. I guess I'm still good for something, now and then." She looks up at Nail and Scruffy. "Darkspawn sighting, to the west. Let's go."

* * *

 _I wish Ree were here, for this. Team Max, roaming the wilderness to battle the Darkspawn and save everyone. She would have loved it... maybe not the actual walking, though. I forgot how much walking there was._

Braids eyes one of the jars Mistress handed out, before we left. "Energy potions, eh? Why the sod didn't we have these during the Blight?!"

 _It's a mystery to all. Best not to pursue the matter._

"Morrigan planned to make some" _Oh, Mistress... **no**. They don't need to hear this. _"But Max gutsed her entire stash, one night, and the herbs were out of season."

 _Betrayal!_

"... The entire lot?" I hear Nail ask. "That can't have been good for him."

"He whined until Bodahn let him ride on the wagon, and slept it off on the journey to Redcliffe" she adds,while checking her map. "The Turnoble farm shouldn't be much farther."

"Ha! And **he** tried to say they weren't farmers!" Braids jabs a finger at Nail.

"They're not" he sighs.

"I have no idea" Scruffy says, "so they outnumber you. Farmers it is."

"Yes and no" Mistress answers. "The family started out as farmers, and grew their lands. They now supply produce to much of the Arling. Even some Highever traders deal with them."

"So they're merchants?" Scruffy asks. _Which turns it from 2 against 1, to... 1.5 against 1.5? I never heard of them, so don't ask me to break the deadlock._

"I think they're too important, even for that, now" she muses.

"OH! Now I get it!" Braids shouts. " _Turnoble_. They were pushing to be Noble Caste. Or whatever you call it up here."

 _Huh... why didn't I pick up on that? Turnoble, Turn Noble. A little on the nose, isn't it?_ While I'm pondering that, another realisation hits me. _In your stupid face, Qunie! "Farmers can't be merchants can't be nobles blahdeblahblah I'm an ugly moron with a dumb butt." This_ _ **is**_ _Ferelden, where people can be whatever the hell they want!_ We walk a bit further, in silence. _Huh – Northern Coast Lands. Cous Lands, from the North... I guess I can't give the Turn Nobles too much lip, considering our own name. E_ _tymology_ _is weird._ I glance at Nail, as he rolls up his own map. _At least we're not named after_ _ **dirt**_ _, like this idiot. Talk about a-_ We all stop, and shoot warning looks back and forth. "Go!" Mistress orders, as the buzzing gets worse. _Fucking Darkspawn! Speaking of overly literal names... but subtlety would have been wasted on these freaks. Better to be concise._

I reach their vanguard first, and pounce on a Genlock. I hear a faint whistle, as Nail drops the other one with an arrow. _Nice shot_ I declare, while tearing out the first guy's throat. I sense buzzing... _No. That's not buzzing_ and drop to my gut as a wave of lightning fries the Hurlock archer. Creeping up, I shove the Alpha from behind as it's taunting everyone. With a quick shield-bash to its face, Mistress keeps running past and drops the approaching Mage with her Templar stuff. I hear Braids sink his axe into the Alpha's body, while I turn to watch Mistress fight. After sending the Emissary's head flying away, she drops down and checks a woman's body.

"They didn't take the women?" she hisses. "This is just **fun** , for them." She guzzles an energy drink, and gets back up. "More that way!"

Squinting, Scruffy motions for everyone to stop. _I've seen this mixture of hand-waving before. Boy's dropping some wicked-strong magic on them. Mistress,you_ _ **have**_ _to see this!_ Braids whistles, watching the frost form on his staff. "You guys missed this, while you were chasing the Dragon upstairs" he smiles. "Get a load of this, ya Darkspawn bastards!" My fur shifts, as winds come from nowhere. Same as last time, it stands on end as there's a faint crackle of lightning in the air. Everything goes quiet for a second, before the vortex roars to life. Over the howl of wind and thunder, we can just make out the panicked screeches of the remaining Darkspawn. _Hold on... did he manage to drop an Earthquake on them, too? Don't tire yourself out in one hit, Scruffy._ There's a different kind of roar, as an Ogre charges its way out of the Storm. _Oh, that's what the shaking was._ Battered and bleeding, it spots us and bellows yet again. _Well, he looks pissed off._ As it limps toward us, it tries in vain to rip the nearest tree out of the ground. _Yep. He definitely_ _ **angry**_ _. Thank Dane he's too wounded, because he would have smashed us all with that thing._ Nail goes for his bow again, while Scruffy quaffs two mana bottles. "Shit... I forgot how draining that is." He makes a quick gesture, and everyone's weapon bursts into flames. Pointing at the slowly approaching Ogre, he flops back against the fence. "Your turn..."

Mistress snarls, as we rush it. " **Die!** " She doesn't even try to hack at it first, before leaping up and driving her sword into it repeatedly as it falls backward. She lets out a few more screams, while stabbing it again for good measure. Again. And again. _Mistress? It's dead. You can stop now._ She takes a deep breath, and rolls off the corpse.

Nail lowers his bow, and taps Braids on the shoulder. "... Go check for survivors." He nods in response, and they both walk off. I step forward, and nudge her hand. _It's alright, Mistress. It's over._ She's still breathing heavy, when she pats my neck. "I failed again" she whispers, looking around. Using me to push herself up, she approaches the nearest body. "Valena Turnoble. Thomas and Delilah introduced us, at a Wintersend festival in Amaranthine when we were children." Mistress drops down, and shuts the old lady's hand around the bow she must have tried fighting with. "She gave me a nice apple..."

"There's a Templar over here!" Braids calls, from somewhere. "They got him, too!"

" _From the Fade I crafted you, and to the Fade you shall return_ " Mistress whispers, before gently closing the woman's eyes. Standing up, she looks at the dipping sun. _Almost evening. I guess it was a longer journey out there than I thought._ Mistress gives a sharp whistle, and begins dragging the nearest Hurlock towards the Ogre's corpse. The others soon join us.

"What's the plan?" Nail asks.

"We get all the bodies together, and torch them. One pile for the people, one for the scum" she begins. Everyone nods, so she continues. "Then, we find the workers' barracks. We'll sleep there, tonight, and head back to the Keep in the morning. Oghren, Loghain and I can take shifts on watch. Daylen, you just rest up – I'll need you to burn any fields they touched, tomorrow. Get your strength back, from that _thing_ you did. I **finally** see why Leliana was so impressed - she couldn't do it justice, when she tried describing it." _I guess we're decided._ I stroll past Mistress, as she grabs one of the Genlocks by the ankle. _I'll grab the bows and crap they dropped._

"What was that, anyway?" Nail enquires as he and Scruffy lift up the Alpha, grunting from the apparent weight of its armour.

" _Storm of the Century_ – I remembered it from a list, in the Tower. Theoretical spell ideas, for battle-mages. It was only meant for advanced training, so I assume old Sweeney left it on a library table by mistake."

"Hmm. The Templars allow for that kind of thing?"

Scruffy shrugs with his one free shoulder. "You couldn't just drop one in their quarters. They'd Smite you within an inch of your life, while you were still just creating the opening wind-spell. Also..."

"Also?"

"Well, don't tell _her_ , but the scroll also recommended the combination should be cast by at least two Mages. Too much of a drain on just one person."

Nail glances over, at Scruffy's sweaty face. "So it would seem. How did you even know you could do it, then?"

"While you two were charging up Fort Drakon, and we had to hold them off outside. I noticed a rather fucking large group of Darkspawn, coming from a side-street. An incredibly dumb idea came to mind, so I drank four mana potions and prayed it would work. There was a super-storm, a lot of dead Darkspawn left in its wake, and I'm still here."

"Indeed you are – so long as you're smart enough to save that for emergencies" Nail grunts, as they heave the Alpha up onto the pile. They swap looks of wary approval, and head off toward different corpses.

* * *

 _Huh?_ Shaking the sleep out of my head, I look around. _I think I can see three people, in the bunks._ The tapping noise softly echoes again, from outside. I nudge the door open, and push it closed with my butt, as I go to investigate.

"... Morning, Max" Mistress greets me, as I approach her. _Why are you outside? And hammering things. We're not bakers, so you don't need to be up so early. Just because the sun rose, doesn't mean we have to. Also, bakers don't nail things so this makes even less sense. Forget I mentioned bakers! What are you doing, anyway?_

I lean in, and look at the papers she's been nailing to the wooden things. _"_ _ **Recent Darkspawn infestation. Do NOT enter. By order of Arlessa Cousland, Warden-Commander.**_ _" And there's a drawing of a skull. For people who can't read? Fair enough to me. We're gonna put this stack around the perimeter, when we go? You certainly made a lot of them._

"I found their office, and started on these. We'll place them along the fence-lines, before we leave" Mistress says, watching me read. " _Hopefully_ that stops idiots sneaking in to steal fruit..." _Hopefully, but the thing about idiots is that they're all stupid morons. So some might still try._ "I don't know – maybe we **should** raze and burn everything. I'll decide, when we come back." Sighing, she lifts herself up. "Speaking of idiots, taking fruit" she mutters, stepping over a fence. _Speaking of which... what? The only idiot here is Braids, and he's snoring up a storm. Of the Century._ She pulls down an apple, and sniffs it. Satisfied, she drops it into her bag; followed by another. Plucking a third one, she returns to the fence and sits on a post. She pulls out a small knife, and begins slicing the apple still in her hand. Cautiously chewing the first piece, she swallows and makes an empty smile. "... She certainly knew farming, even after all these years" Mistress says to herself, before tossing me a slice.

 _Huh. Yeah she did! May you run with Dane's Pack, Lady Turn Noble._

* * *

 ** _A/N: As always, thanks to everyone reading/following. Especially Melysande for her thoughts._**

 ** _I_ usually _try to be somewhat subtle with the references, but Max's Schleets paranoia and the Robes of Possession in Flemeth's Hut turned into an unavoidable_ Kill La Kill _thing_ _. I thought about taking it out, but then the chapter got rough and I decided to keep the goofiness. It's_ Parody/Angst _, after all._**


	9. Dendrology and Demonology, hosted by Max

_**Team Maxwell wish to preemptively**_ ** _apologise to any Eileens in the audience. The following remarks of Fergus Cousland are not necessarily shared or endorsed by the Grey Wardens, and their associated attendants. Oh, and Dragon Age is the property of BioWare so on and so on..._**

* * *

I glance about, as we pass yet another crossroad. _I'm not bothered by silence, since nobody ever listens to me anyway, and Mistress clearly doesn't_ _ **want**_ _to talk... so I imagine one of these idiots will break the quiet any minute now._

"So anyway" Braids announces, looking over to Nail. "Weirdest shit you ever saw?" _Called it._

"... Excuse me?"

"You were the big general and war hero for sixty years, yeah? You would have seen some crazy stuff. What was the weirdest?"

"I am _not_ sixty" Nail grumbles. _Yeah. Okay,_ _ **sure**_ _you aren't..._

Braids rolls his eyes, and punches Scruffy in the leg. "You're up!"

"Fuck **off**!" Scruffy blurts out, as he almost trips.

"Your turn. Weirdest shit you ever seen – something in the Mage Prison, I bet" Braids prompts, ignoring his angry reaction.

Still scowling, Scruffy considers the question. "Probably you trying to garrotte Max."

 **That** makes Mistress turn around, instead of ignoring everyone. "You **what**?!"

"I never heard of it either. Is that even a real word?" Braids shrugs. _'Garrotte' is a type of tree, idiot. I think they only grow in Rivain._

"When we were at the old Warden fort, I was taking a stroll one evening. Couldn't really see, with the light almost gone, but it sure _looked_ like you were trying to strangle him with some cord while he fought you off." _The bullshit with the bridle?_ "Why he didn't bite you for it, I have no idea." _Hey, yeah! I never_ _ **did**_ _bite Braids, for revenge. I appreciate the reminder, Scruffy – you're a true gentleman, and a scholar._

"Oh! When I was trying to saddle the mutt" Braids responds.

"... You _what_?" Mistress repeats, this time in confusion.

"I never did ask you about that, did I?" he realises. "A warhound-pulled chariot! I was hoping to have one for when we finally charged the Horde, but we didn't exactly have the resources back then. I talked to _him_ about it a few times" Braids throws a thumb in my direction "but he wasn't too receptive."

 _ **Talk**? You just snuck up and tried to shove a bridle in my gob! I'm lucky I didn't chip a fang, from you slapping me in the face with metal._

" _That's_ your idea of weird?" Nail asks, unconvinced. "Not something in the Fade?"

"Exactly! The spirit stuff" Braids affirms.

"Spirit stuff is my idea of **normal** , after growing up with it" Scruffy opines. "I _guess_ I could go with everything we saw, in the Gauntlet? It's not like we'll ever see something like that again..."

"You never did tell us _who_ you saw" Mistress says, fully turning around.

"It wasn't an ancient Knight, for everyone?" Nail enquires. "That's what the Orlesian girl told me."

"He was earlier" Mistress explains. "We also each had visions – I saw my father, encouraging me to accept my pain and continue on."

 _I saw Nan – **great fun!**_

"An uncle" Scruffy answers. "... he told me to quit blaming my problems on everyone else, and get off my arse to make life what _I_ want. From what I remember of him, sure sounded like something Uncle Gamlen would have said." _A proactive, self-assured man? I like him already._

"I'll raise a drink to that, and him!" Braids grins.

"I don't remember him caring for drink" Scruffy ponders, while Mistress' eyes slightly react to his comment. She doesn't say anything, before he continues. "He was more interested in finding a new sport, since he was getting too old for Wallop"

"Wallop?" Braids asks

… _Is this another type of tree? Scruffy, what is it with you and **trees** today?_

"It's a children's game" Nail answers. "It was brought down here, after the War, but didn't stay popular very long."

"It _is_ a Winter game – which works fine in the Free Marches, but the weather here is much worse" Scruffy concludes.

"The thing with mallets?" Mistress wonders. "Mother forced me to play it, for a time... I preferred playing music."

"Yes, most of the nobles gave up fairly quick" Nail muses. "Anora kept at it, probably just because it was originally the Queen's idea. Even though it was the _one_ thing Cailan could beat her at."

"Rowan?" Mistress asks. "I didn't know that." _You don't know Rowan? It's a bloody_ _ **tree**_ _!_ _Well,_ _ **another**_ _tree_ _ **.**_ _I understand Braids not knowing, but didn't Aldous teach you any Dendrology?! What_ _ **were**_ _we paying the old bastard to teach you..._

"She thought we needed to let our children _be_ children, with the War over, so she asked various ambassadors what games children played in their streets" Nail tells her. "I'm not surprised your mother stuck to Rowan's ideas. At least _someone_ did..."

"While you're remembering things, how about you remember up the answer to my question?" Braids demands.

"... Alright, I think I have a good answer." _Holy shit... did_ _ **Nail**_ _just smile?! I didn't think his face could do that!_ "There's two I can think of, both from the same day. I hadn't been with the Rebellion long, and we were camped in a ravine. Maric... well, he was _never_ a great rider." Mistress nods at this. _Yeah, even_ _ **I've**_ _heard the stories about him._ "But one day, he was practising on an ancient old nag. It was a breezeless day, because we were sheltered in the ravine, and the old girl wasn't even moving – but he **still** managed to fall off and whack his head. And then, while rushing over to check on him, Wilhelm trod on a thistle patch. Barefoot. He healed Maric and then had that Golem carry him across the entire war camp like a bride, to his tent so he could get some tools to dig out the prickles."

"... No wonder Shale's still angry" Scruffy quips.

" **HA**! That's the kind of story I was hoping for! Not people in the fogs" Braids smirks. "That bloody Golem is probably my answer, too. One day, outside... I don't know, some crappy village. The important thing, the Golem _tip-toeing!_ At least fourteen feet, she did it! And she managed to get under the branch, and yank down a bird before it even knew to fly away. She was grinning the rest of the afternoon, even with the dried blood all over her face." _So she should have – that's one hell of a spot-check to pass!_

"That's our Shale" Scruffy mutters, smiling.

 _Hmm... personally? I think the weirdest thing I ever saw was Nugly. Stupid little dirty freak._

"What about you, boss?" Braids asks, before she can turn away.

"... Sandal" Mistress says, after a moment.

"The kid?"

 _Mistress... that's **rude** , don't you think?! No need to insult Shoe like that – he may be an odd duck, but he's got a heart of gold._

"I don't remember if I told you two" she begins, "but when we were fighting our way up through Fort Drakon, we suddenly ran into him. By himself, nearly at the top of the Fort... _surrounded_ by dead Darkspawn. There were even a couple of Ogres. Not a scratch or drop of blood on him."

"I..."

 _How?_

"Huh?"

"Exactly" she sighs, while Nail nods in confirmation. "I asked. _Enchantment_ was all he said, and then offered to sell me a bag of runes and some other stuff he must have carried up with him."

"... I **do** remember him suddenly being there, when they carried you down after the battle" Scruffy says, scratching his head. "With everything else that was happening, I didn't bother thinking about why."

"... That's not sodding fair" Braids moans. "Pick something we have a _chance_ of out-weirding! Even this bastard just went with the horse story." _It's pronounced_ _ **history**_ _. And I think he meant the bit about Rumble ferrying someone across the threshold._

Nail shrugs. "She spotted him first, I thought she should tell it."

"Second weirdest?" Scruffy suggests to Mistress. "To shut him up."

"I don't know" she groans, while rubbing her neck. "...Leliana singing to Schmooples, while rocking him to sleep like a baby?"

 _ **Yes!**_ _Finally someone agrees with me, about the little creep!_

Scruffy furrows his brow. "Seriously? When was **that**?"

"... The second time we were in Orzammar? Yes, the second time. Because we had you and Shale by that point, some of us doubled up rooms. I shared with her, the night we got back from taking Shale out to see Cadash Thaig. Cue the nug lullaby... I don't know, I think that was right after she and Al ended things. So she was in a weird place." _Yeah, Orzammar screws with your mind if you're underground too long._

"Aye – I had to share with the big guy. He cabbage-farts in his sleep, the rotten bastard!" Braids adds. _Yes, we all heard you moaning about Qunie for a week after that._

"He had the same complaint about you" Scruffy says. _Also true._

"Heh... except mine weren't **cabbage**!" Braids gloats. _That isn't... well, I'm not actually_ _ **sure**_ _if that's something to sound smug about. You were still blasting the room with stench. Might be another Orzammar thing, though – I had a wall carving fart on me!_

We all quiet, when voices start yelling from further down the road.

"Anyone! Help!" a woman screams.

"Shut up, girl, and give us your wagon" someone barks at her.

"Bandits" Nail sighs, reaching for his bow.

… _This seems familiar. Careful, Mistress. Last time this happened, a chatterbox Elf tried to kill you. And his buddies threw a tree at us. A fir, if I'm not mistaken – because **I** paid attention in your Botany lessons! Fir makes Four, for trees we managed to mention just now._

Watching Nail creep up to the hill, Mistress looks back at us with a defeated look. "Get into positions, since he's going."

 _Come to think of it, didn't Chatterbox say he was hired by Nail to kill us? … The guy who is now leading us into **this** 'bandit' situation. Coincidence, or did he not learn his lesson the first fucking time? _

* * *

_Well, these guys were crap! Not even up to Chatterbox's standard - at least he gave us a fight. The fur certainly flew that day. You arseholes didn't even throw a tree at us. Heh - the **fir** flew that day! Huh? Guys, get it? _They're all just focused on that guy Mistress didn't kill yet. _Typical - **Morrie** would have acknowledged my brilliant witticism! Probably with one of her pretend annoyed faces, but that was how I knew she loved me. _

The remaining bandit swallows in fear, and tries to back away from Nail... into the farmhouse behind him. _It's a barn, moron – how did you not know it was there?_

"Okay! Fine! _You_ can take her cargo – I wanted to be on the other squad anyway!" he begs.

" **Nobody's** taking it" the woman sneers, as she gets her horses to start. And away she goes without so much as a grateful head tilt. _'Think nothing of it, good lady. No need to_ _ **thank**_ _us or anything!' Cow..._

"... If you didn't want that Warden shipment, why are you here?" the bandit asks, as Nail's blade makes him lift his chin.

"Typical" Braids jokes. "She'll be embarrassed, when she gets to the Keep!"

"That was a Warden shipment?" Mistress sighs, moving next to Nail.

"That's what the boss said" he stammers. "Figured we could intercept it, and make you think it was hit by the same people wrecking those westbound traders. In the Woods. He said them Wardens get all kind of fancy tribute!"

"None of your men fought well enough to be that smart" Nail remarks. "Where's this boss camped?"

"Up the coast, he said! Took his favourites for the easy job... should have known not to work for someone called The Snake" he starts to complain, before Nail grabs his ear.

"... Let me guess – a ransom exchange?" he hisses.

"Yes! That noble girl!"

" _Where_?" Mistress demands, holding up a map.

"The coast! I don't know! He just said we'd meet at our cave in a few days!"

Nail's free hand goes into his pouch, and pulls out a letter. "We got a request about _this_ , as well – but it was too vague. I thought we'd get more information from him, first."

Mistress quickly reads it. "Eileen Bensley?" she scowls, before continuing. "No mention of _when_ , and he wants **us** to pay it... the old Chantry on the cliffs? I know _where_ it is..." She considers it for a moment, before folding up the paper. "Get rid of him."

Guy doesn't have time to shout, before Nail's blade strikes. "Forlorn Cove is on some of my maps, but I don't know about any Chantries" Nail notes, wiping his dagger.

Mistress hands him the letter back. "Mother took me up and down the coast, sometimes. She used to point out their old secret spots. _Nobody uses the old Chantry, because too many people use it_.

"... Huh?" Braids grunts, puzzled.

"That was my reaction. She said she meant professionals. Her family, and groups like the Raiders, steered clear of obvious landmarks like that. But low-market smugglers, and foreigners in a hurry, would use it."

"Your mother was a Duster smuggler?!" he blurts out, surprised.

"No, her father was a Bann – but there was a war on. So they'd strike Orlesian ships."

"The Seawolf, they used to call her" Nail adds.

"... Like the song?" Scruffy asks.

"That's her" Mistress replies. "It made it to Kirkwall?"

"Not that I know" he shrugs. "But it got pieced together in the Circle, from the portions new arrivals heard Kester sing to himself, coming across the Lake. Since it was the only non-Chantry song most of us knew, you couldn't _not_ hear it in the Tower."

Braids frowns, thoughtfully. "I think you sang that, when you were blind drunk in Tapsters. She meets a stupid knight or something, and threatens to beat his dumb arse into the dirt."

"... So _he_ would be who I think he is?" Scruffy murmurs, giving Braids a warning look.

Mistress smirks, and walks off without answering the question. "Come on, we've got a hostage to save."

"That's **exactly** who he was" Nail nods, as he passes Braids.

"... What, the King?" Braids wonders. "Figures he tried taking a boat, if he's as bad at horsing as you say."

I hear Scruffy groan in annoyance, as I run to catch up with Mistress. _I know, buddy, I know..._ _ **horsing**_ _is so not a word!_

* * *

 _Blimey, this cliff is high up..._ swallowing, I follow them across the bridge. _What in Dane's name even possessed the Fussy Women to build a Chant Tree out here?! … Is there a stupidity demon? There's ones for desire, anger and greed, I know that much... and Biddy mentioned a laziness demon, once. I think. So I expect there's stupidity demons. Being the embodiment of dumb, they naturally don't live very long without accidentally killing themselves so maybe the Mages have never managed to find a surviving one? I should have Madam Goat draft a letter for me, when we return, and send it to the Circle to ensure **I** receive due credit for my hypothesis and subsequent inarguable proof of their existence. Lord Maxwell's Laws of Inherent Idiocy, Relating To Demonology. And how all the dumbness of the last year was caused by a Stupidity Demon infecting dreams in the Capital. Before it strangled itself to death, whilst trying to lasso a wild **horse** radish to pull it out of the ground. Hang on – here come the bandits! I bet they'll steal to steal my discovery, the brigands!_

"Stop right there" one orders, "or poor little Eileen goes over the cliff!" _It'd be easy too, since she has no balance._ "Where's Lord Bensley? The deal was **he** pays us."

 _Sorry, buddy. He's a skint bludger, apparently, and begged Mistress to front the money. Or his daughter just wasn't that valuable to him... probably because of her disability? What an **arsehole!**_

"I got your money" Mistress simply answers. "Show us the girl, first."

He nods. "Hawk, bring her out."

"Yes, Snake" someone answers, from behind the rubble.

Mistress and Scruffy exchange a quick look, while we wait. Braids scoffs to himself. "Hawk, Snake... I bet that guy with the axe is 'Nug'." _He does look ugly enough..._

A man returns, pushing a woman. _Wait! Mistress – it's a trick! That_ _ **can't**_ _be her!_

"The gold?" Snake calls.

"Lord Bensley said your note said _after_ we get her" Mistress shrugs, vacantly.

"Of course he sent someone who can't even read" Snake mutters. "Hawk, untie her."

"Right, boss."

"That's _not_ him" I hear Mistress whisper to Scruffy. _That's not_ _ **her**_ _, either... which is why you aren't paying. Clever!_

The woman **runs** over, further giving away the deception, before Mistress gently stops her. "Easy, Eileen. It's alright now." _… Wait, she_ _ **is**_ _Eileen? But Furgus always said Eileen was a one-legged woman... I guess he meant someone else._

She looks up, and gasps after a moment. "Lady Amanda!" _Oh, you two know each other?_

There's noticeable armour clanking, as the bandits shuffle nervously. "... What is _this_?" Snake yells.

Mistress lightly pushes Eileen behind the wall, as we all step in full view. "Hello" Scruffy mockingly waves his staff about.

One of them points at Braids, while another sees Nail. "The General!" they both shout.

"They made _you_ General?" Nail groans.

"There was talk about it" Braids shrugs. "Didn't really go anywhere, before I quit."

"Allow me to _properly_ introduce myself" Mistress politely announces, with a touch of ice to her voice, while drawing her sword. "My name is Arlessa Amanda Cousland, the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. I understand you are Mosley, the Snake. Of nowhere."

"The _**Hero**_!" Nug exclaims, gripping his axe tightly.

"... Oh, _bollocks_ " Hawk complains. "I **wanted** to go with the wagon team, too!" _Don't worry, they didn't have fun without you._

"Shut up and fight, you morons!" Snake hisses, as Team Max advance on them. _Well, most of us. Mistress just gave me The Look, to stay and guard this Eileen woman._ I sit next to her, leaning a paw on her leg when she cringes at the sound of clashing blades. _Relax, now. Team Max to the rescue! Rescue_ _ **s**_ _, since we also saved that ingrate wagon lady. All in all, today was a productive day. Hopefully it makes Mistress feel better about yesterday and not being able to save that woman she knew._ I let my paw slightly tap her leg, to test it. _Okay, that doesn't feel like a wooden leg – so once again, Mistress was right and Furgus was dumb. So you and her know each other, too? The Animal Squad mentioned Lord Somebody, so I'm guessing you're an Amaranthine noble. We didn't get many of them, in Highever. Well, the former ones we did – who pledged themselves to Grandpa instead of Toadface after the War... worthless fuck_ _ **never**_ _got over that, as it turned out._

But if her dad's a noble, he could afford a convincing fake leg. _Should I sniff-test it?_ No, it might freak her out, while she's already a nervous wreck. I give her leg a stealthy tap again, and she drapes against me, sobbing.

 _It'll be fine, so just let it out. I'll let you lean on my shoulder until... **lean.** Eileen, the one-legged woman? **Now** I get it. Typical dumb Furgus joke..._

* * *

 ** _As always, a thanks to everyone reading; Melysande for her thoughts._**

 _ **If I ever do more of the modern Max stuff, I really need to make someone call Morrigan a tsundere to her face. Right before she zaps them.**_


	10. The Dread Pirate Maxwell

**_Wherein I get a whole chapter, and an unexplained murder scene, out of "wasn't this map in that other DLC?"_**

* * *

 _Hmm. I'm feeling a hunch in my haunches – there's something **interesting** here. I just can't see it yet. _While sniffing for it, I glance around the beach. The echoing of Braids' snoring faintly sounds from the cave he found. I'm not sure where Nail went, but it mustn't have been comfortable; he's already awake. _And Scruffy's with him, I see... and they have a **fine** stick! Is that what I need to investigate? _

"Even so, nobody taught _before_ you were taken?" Nail asks, while he's fiddling with some string. _Oh, are you guys gonna go fishing? Good call. It's pretty much dawn, so having breakfast ready will help get the others moving when they wake up._ "You lived in a port city."

"It was probably beneath House Amell" Scruffy says, wiping sand from his hair. "Too close to **work**." _We warned you that you'd get sand everywhere, champ. But you were all 'I've never been_ _ **on**_ _a real beach before! I'm gonna sleep outside in the dunes like an easily-impressed dimwit who grew up locked in a Tower!' I mean, sure – you_ _ **are**_ _one, but have some dignity._

Satisfied, Nail gives the stick a few swings. "This should do... now, we find a likely spot. The good thing about obvious bandit locations is that the locals can't fish them dry. I expect there's plenty for the catching."

 _Ah, like that 'nobody comes here, because too many people come here' business Mistress said?_

"... So, what do we do?" Scruffy asks, staring out at the waves.

"Watch me, and you take over when you think you've got it" Nail replies, pointing at a large pile of rocks further up the beach. "That looks promising."

Scruffy frowns for a second, then glances up at the cliffs. "Huh..." _Is that where the rocks came from?_

"Don't worry – we didn't leave anyone up there to make it crumble down on us" Nail concludes, with a quick look.

 _It looks like an even worse fall, when you see it from the bottom. I bet there's plenty of neat shit down here. The bandits get drunk, lose stuff over the edge, and don't dare come staggering down here to find it. Is that what my bones want me to investigate?_ I surrender to the calling, and being sniffing about. _I must obey the inscrutable exhortations of my soul..._

 _Well, this **is** a tricky one. _I know there's something around here, but damned if I can find it. _Wait... ha! It's in this dune. I expect it fell right off the cliff, up by the old Chant Tree._ Now for the easy part – digging. _Dig, dig, dig! Buried treasure, on a beach. Just like the pirate stories Grandma used to tell, about the Armada and the Raiders. I wish I could meet a pirate. I'd bite their butt and shove them overboard, so I'd be the new Captain! Captain Maxwell, Mabari Terror of the Amaranthine Ocean and literal sea dog._ I like digging. I bet it's like gardening, except you don't have to waste weeks afterwards nursing plants until they grow up and take responsibility for their own lives. _Stupid hobby, really. I suppose I could order my First Mate, Jenkins, to fill my dig-holes with plants, and do all the tedious botany shit while I take the crew out plundering. I mean, it only makes sense – Jenkins is a useless bastard. No sea legs at all. Honestly, I should just shove **him** overboard; but his Uncle took a crossbow bolt meant for me, when Ostwick sent those stupid Valo-Kas mercenaries after us. Promised him I'd take care of his idiot orphan nephew, that day. It's decided, then – after I burn Ostwick to the ground and salt the ashes for revenge, I dump Jenkins on the Val Chevin docks so he can open a flower shop as a front for our smuggling. That seems a good place, to leave First Mates who prove useless? _I stop, and check the dune. I've made a start, but this will take a while. _Oh well..._

* * *

 _Ha! I just felt something._ With proof I found my unexplained something, I resume digging, determination and vigour restored.

"Max?" I hear, over my efforts. _Maxwell is occupied; please try calling me again later._

The same familiar voice splutters. "... **Max**!" _Oh, Mistress?!_ I stop, and glance back. _Whoops... I didn't kick_ _ **too**_ _much sand onto you, did I?_

Mistress exhales in annoyance, trying to brush her face clean. "What the **hell** are you doing?!" she spits. Literally, to get sand out of her mouth. _I... found treasure. Trust me, it'll be worth getting some sand on you. I hope. Or I probably won't see any bacon for a long time, judging by her angry eyes._

"... Pirates. Do not. Bury. Treasure" she glowers. "That's a stupid story people made up."

 _My seeking sense knows there's something here! Remember all the neat stuff I found, during the Blight! That nice staff, the one Scruffy used until Biddy taught him the Magic Sword stuff she learnt in the Werewolf cave. And there was some booze, for Braids... that was supposedly dangerous. The idiot was fine, when he drank it, so where was the harm?! The old pants... which you hated. The old cake... which you hated. The old yarn... I think you gave that to Biddy, so you must have hated it. Well, I'm sure I found **something** you liked! Elfroot, some more elfroot... a paranoid letter, insisting reality is fake and all that we know is just the machination of unseen hands. Hello, Dusty!_

 **Hello, Max! Keep digging, you're almost there.**

I guess Mistress didn't hear that, because she's still just scowling. "This better be good..."

 _It will, it will! Dusty, tell her? ...Dusty?! Figures – he's probably off cooking dinner or something instead of writing. Boy has the attention span of a dead weasel. No wonder he's never finished his other stories._

"What's going on?" I hear Scruffy call.

"... I _think_ he's found something" Mistress sighs, brushing more sand from her stomach.

"Whoa" he whistles. "And I thought _I_ had sand everywhere, from last night." Scruffy stops, and runs over with a grin. "Is it _pirate_ treasure?!"

Mistress rolls her eyes, as he kneels next to me. _It might be. That or it fell off the cliff, bounced off those boulders and embedded itself in this dune._

"This beach has _everything_ " he proclaims, pointing back to Nail. "I even caught... _some_ kind of fish." _I admire your enthusiasm, Scruffy! I'm gonna make_ _ **you**_ _my new First Mate. After we ransack Ostwick, we'll sail on Kirkwall and punish your deadshit parents for abandoning you. Sound good?_

"Hang on" First Mate Scruffy says, standing back up. _You better not be trying to quit already. I'll dump you in Val Chevin, next to Jenkins and Casavir, if you do!_

"I'll make a wind spell, and blast the dune down. I felt metal, so it'll probably be too heavy to lift out."

 _Oh? Oh! **Brilliant!** This is exactly why you're First Mate. And it'll be super useful, once we steal a ship! If someone tries chasing us, and we hit a lull, you can just summon up our own personal winds while those other idiots are stuck, eating our wake! My man, we are going to **own** the seas before it's all said and done. Lord Maxwell and Admiral Scruffington._

"Okay, back up" Scruffy announces, gesturing everyone to move away. His hands begin shaking and dancing about, as a breeze funnels down the hill trail. Slowly, almost surgically, the sand gently slides as the dune flattens out. _Good, good – Jenkins would have sent the sand everywhere in a big blast, possibly making us miss small coins and things. The Admiral is more strategic._

I can see the tip of something metal, so we're almost there... huh. _We found a dead guy._

Frowning, Nail reaches down and drags it clear. "... A skeleton." _It's more than_ _ **you**_ _found, so spare me the judgement, old man! If I knew ahead of time what I was seeking out, it wouldn't be called 'seeking'._

"They've been there a while, by the look. Wasn't one of the Snake's victims..." Scruffy assumes.

"This all looks like custom-made armour" Mistress says, leaning down for a look. She digs a little herself, and pulls out a dented shield. Flipping it over, she stares at the emblem. "I've never seen this heraldry, though. Loghain?"

Nail moves it further into the sunlight, and holds it up. _He looks stumped- so I guess I better take command of this investigation. We need to have this beach declared off-limits, and then I need a team of diggers to check for further victims. Scruffy, contact the Tower and get an Entropy Mage out here. I'm guessing it means they study decay and shit, right? I expect everyone to work until this is solved, so no bullshit out of you, Braids._

"... The Hard Line?" Nail suddenly asks. _I prefer to think I'm firm but fair – however, yes I'll take a hard line if it means this investigation operates efficiently._

"What's that, then?" Scruffy enquires.

"They were a militia group. Years ago."

"Like the Blackstones?" Mistress looks up, as she gives the sand one last sweep with her foot to see if we missed anything.

"Sort of. They were well-regarded at first... but their methods became too extreme. Maric eventually had to step in, and seize the commander's lands. He'd snatch and torture anyone he suspected might be trying to help Orlais, after the war." Scruffy makes a slight noise, and a sceptical face. Nail just sighs. " **I** never tried to shut down the Denerim market because people had imported Orlesian silk, boy. He seized their shipping manifests, and was demanding to interrogate the dock-master when Maric intervened."

"I never heard about this" Mistress ponders. "They were just Denerim-based?"

"Mostly" Nail nods. "Urien hired him, afterwards. We tried to keep an eye on him, but he got smarter about it. There was still the occasional rumour, like he apparently took some Elf woman for having 'an Orlesian-style name' and threw her in the Estate's dungeon."

"... Sounds like he was a big influence on that Kendalls arsehole, then" Scruffy mutters.

"What are you all whispering about?" Braids suddenly interrupts, appearing beside Scruffy. "... And who's the **dead** guy?!" he adds, scratching his gut.

"I'm fairly sure it's him" Nail answers. "Harwen Raleigh." _I checked, buddy. That's a proper skeleton. So it_ _ **is**_ _Harwen, really. Or '_ _ **rahley**_ _', since you apparently turned super-fancy with your enunciation in the last three seconds?_

"So... what the fuck is a Denerim estate guard doing all the way out here?" Scruffy notes the obviousest question.

"Decomposing" Braids comments. _Looks like he already_ _ **did**_ _._ He glances about, at the various annoyed noises everyone made. "What? Not like he can do much _else_ , at this point."

"... Be that as it may" Mistress groans, pinching her nose. "Can we cover him back up, now? _Before_ Eileen wanders down, preferably. She seemed alright, for what she went through, but I don't imagine finding a rotted corpse will be **fun** for her. In fact, I'll go make sure she doesn't come down here, while you guys handle it. Do the wind trick again, or whatever.." she orders, as she walks away.

"Fair enough" Nail mutters. "I always wondered why he suddenly vanished... but we aren't going to learn anything from him, now. Beyond the fact he went over the cliff and bounced down here."

 _Oh, maybe he was fighting a dragon and tried to pull Perv's mid-air combat tackle dive! The Acrobattle Attackle, as I imagine he called it._

"When was this, anyway?" Scruffy asks, as he and Nail drag the body back to the dune.

"... Six, maybe seven years ago? We suspected Orlesian agents were involved, due to some other things that had happened in the city around the same time, but nobody was sure. When Raleigh didn't resurface after a few months, Maric eventually had his people stop spending much effort on it. I think he was glad just to see the back of him. 'He's never stayed quiet this long before, so he's hopefully dead' was how he put it."

 _King Ricky had a point, if you ask me. This whole Dirt Laden Corpse story was kinda pointless, beyond letting us find some fancy armour, so we don't need to bother with it **ever** again. Stupid 'D.L.C', you got my hopes up that I found something interesting, but it was just boring... oh well. Maybe something fun will happen, when we get back to the Keep. Like we round out the Team – apart from Scruffy, everyone's a Warrior. We should go find a Rogue or two, real soon._

* * *

We've got him buried again, when Mistress returns. "Good" she says, looking at the dune. _Right? If you weren't here at the time, you'd never know it had been disturbed at all._ "You can cook up those fish, please? I'm going to find that stream we passed on the way down here, and wash this damned sand off me." She gives me a _look_ , and continues. "Eileen should be down, in a moment... so just let her be, if she's nervous. I suppose."

"Was she... alright?" Braids hesitantly asks. "... Y'know?"

Mistress gives a slight nod. "They may have been scumbags, but Mosley didn't let anyone _touch_ her. If **that's** what you mean..."

"Aye" he answers, with a smile. "Good, then. I'll just be quiet, instead of blatantly awkward."

"... That's a good way to put it, Oghren. Do that. If I remember right, she likes horses – Loghain, casually mention the Keep is buying some Forders, to one of these two. If she wants to talk, that should get her started."

"So you know her well, then?" Scruffy asks. _Shut your gob and let Mistress go wash up! The sooner she forgives me, the sooner I can get bacon again._ "I wondered why her father would ask _Wardens_ to handle it..."

"Sort of" Mistress shrugs. "We met at a few of Delilah Howe's birthdays and such, over the years. I didn't expect her to recognise me, honestly. Especially not _that_ quickly."

 _You forget you're awesome – of course you make that kind of impression!_

As she walks off, Nail slaps Scruffy by the shoulder. "Now you get to learn how to _clean_ a fish..."

 _Ugh, gross! I've seen this before... so I'm gonna go check on Eileen Two-Legs instead._

"They live in a giant bath" Braids opines, as I wander up the hill. "Bloody things should be plenty clean already."

* * *

 **As always, thanks to everyone reading; and Melysande for her thoughts.**

 _ **Geez, Max - I'm working on the other stories! Not cool, man; I thought we were buddies? And you bash Leliana's Song, too? I kinda liked that one...**_


	11. A warned reunion

**I expect tracking a Warden would be rather easy, with all the dead bodies left in their wake. Which allows for a cameo, even if they never show up in Awakening. It's my fic, so I'll use my favourite characters if I want, darn it! BioWare can own Dragon Age all they want, but my ideas are _mine_.**

* * *

 _Fancy..._ I swallow, and sniff the room. Everyone else _definitely_ got better smelling food than I did. _Still, this meat **is** nice. And he wasn't expecting Mistress to drop in unannounced, much less a Mabari such as myself. It would be churlish to complain about an impromptu lunch._

Braids clumsily places his goblet back down, and motions to an attendant for a refill. _Slow down, champ. It's still only noon!_

Mistress' eyes silently groan, as she turns to our dumbfounded host. "Please excuse him, Lord Bensley. We camped by the shore last night, and I forgot how new to the surface he still is." Benny gives a 'think nothing of it' wave, but he still looks puzzled. _I know, I know – who would have thought_ _ **Braids**_ _would know which fork is for what?_ Noticing his expression, Mistress continues. "So I neglected to warn him about filling his waterskins with sea-water. As you can see, the taste still lingers."

"Aye" Braids mutters, draining the goblet a second time. "I gotta thank you, though... milord" he quickly adds the honorific. "You have a fine drop, and I can barely notice it now. Do _all_ your oceans try to poison people?"

"... I'm afraid so" Benny offers.

"Figures. They warned about the sky, and pants, but not the water."

Eileen Two-Legs looks over, finally paying attention to someone other than Mistress. _Here we go again..._ "Pants?"

"Some smartar..." Braids stops, when Mistress shoots him a look. " _Alec_ , told me nonsense about murderous pants." _Wait, I thought you said his name was Jacob?_

Benny chuckles. "Oh, the Schleets? … I haven't heard that one since the War."

Eileen frowns. "The what?"

"They hide in the woods, waiting for unfortunate wanderers to try them on" Benny proudly recites, clearly from old memories. "Then they seize onto your legs, trip you over and devour your eyes."

" _Before standing up on their aberrant legs, and stalking away to a new location to await their next victim_ " Nail adds.

"That's the ones" Benny grins. "Winter's their breeding season, when they don't just eat your eyes... they lay eggs in the sockets."

Braids scoffs, in annoyance. "He left out _that_ part – I would realised sooner! I **really** need to punch him, when we get back. Pants laying eggs... it's preposterous!"

"Yeah, totally" Scruffy mutters to himself. "It started out as a nice little story about killer pants, but now you know about _eggs_ , it's gotten silly."

"Exactly" Braids nods, unaware of the sarcasm. _Heh – Eggsacks. Eggsackly. Wow, this is a dumb conversation. I bet Mistress will try to redirect it._

"I do have a question, Lord Bensley" she calmly proclaims. _Called it._ "Why did you request our help, and not the Amaranthine Guard?"

"I considered that, at first. But they're spread thin as of late, so I expect I would have received auxiliary troops at best. In my experience, they're either untrained or people like Mosley have associates join, to slip them information." Leaning back, Benny smiles. "Also, my daughter's safety required the best Ferelden has to offer."

"A fair point" Mistress replies. "No parent would argue that."

"Well, except for 'im" Braids drawls, pointing at Nail with his empty goblet. _Oh, great. He's hammered._ "Had his brute squad drag you off when we rescued his _own_ daughter, didn't he?"

"... It was complicated" Nail shrugs, awkwardly.

"Oghren..." Mistress says with a weary groan. _Scruffy, any comment? Unlike Braids, you were actually there that day, after all._ He doesn't reply, but cautiously just continues eating. _Hmm. Yeah, that's probably a wise move._

"Still, Father made the right choice" Eileen Two-Legs breaks the tense silence, smiling at Mistress. Which makes Mistress shift a little in her seat, and return a polite look while _mostly_ hiding her alarm. _What, you only just_ _ **now**_ _noticed how she's been staring at you?_

"I must apologise for the timing, though" Benny opines, apparently not noticing it either. "I sent that letter before we received word of the attack. You have my condolences for your men."

"Thank you" Mistress answers, nervously turning back to her plate.

"Of course, I would have asked in person if the other message had arrived beforehand as well" Benny adds.

"Other message?"

"From Bann Esmerelle, saying you and her had arranged your official introduction day with the local nobility. Is it still tomorrow, after what happened?" he asks. _You're not very observant when people slightly panic, are you? Because she's_ _ **never**_ _been good at hiding it._

"I would _assume_ so?" Mistress says, nonplussed.

"She's making moves already" Nail whispers to Mistress.

"Ah" Benny suddenly frowns. "So it was her typical grand-standing, then. I **suspected**." _Okay, maybe he is perceptive. Does this stupid woman do this a lot? Just invite herself and her idiot friends over, unannounced? I hate her already..._

The guy from earlier, Stu I think, enters the room. "My lord, a rider has arrived.

Seeking the Grey Wardens."

"I guess Varel got impatient" Scruffy finally speaks. _To be fair, we're a few days overdue. Or something happened. I hope not._

"Show him to the den, thank you Stuart" Benny orders. _Is it still an order, if you say 'thank you'?_

" _Steward Stuart_ " Braids sniggers, transitioning into a burp. Shooting him another dirty look, Mistress crosses her cutlery on the plate. "It would seem duty calls. By your leave, my lord?"

Benny nods. "Of course. And thank you again, Your Grace." S _he's Amanda, not Grace... oof!_ _ **That**_ _got me a dirty look as well. Get used to it, Mistress. I bet you'll be hearing that joke a lot. Especially from Furgus._

"You all finish eating" Mistress tells the others. "Make sure _he_ gets some actual food in him. No more drink" she adds, motioning at Oghren.

"Fine, fine..." he mutters, poking some cauliflower. "They left the broccoli out in the sun."

"Just eat it" Scruffy sighs, as I follow Mistress out. "She can probably still hear you." _We can totally hear you. Okay, Mistress. Let me go in first – I'm suspicious of the fact this rider found us so far off-course. My teeth are ready for some butt biting if they turn out to be an arsehole._

"I'll show you to the den. Walk this way" Stu says, as Mistress closes the door behind her. _I've got too many legs, to walk_ _ **that**_ _way. How about I just follow you? ... Oof. Another unimpressed look. Guess Mistress heard enough bad comedy from Braids. Fine – lead on, Stuart the Ste... oh!_ _ **Now**_ _I get what Braids was giggling about. Cheer up, Mistress. It's a free lunch, in our honour. And our luck is finally going well today! Unless the mystery guest turns out to be someone we hate. Like a debt collector, saying we're now culpable for Toadface's many arrears. Culpable – that's a fun sounding word. Shame it's not one anybody ever wants to hear. If we're lucky, it'll only be another talking Darkspawn. He's come looking to ask what happened to his buddies, who did an Esmerelle and invited themselves to the Keep without a head's up they were coming over. Or a Darkspawn debt collector, seeking damages for all the ones we killed during the Blight. They're evil, so of course they have their own scumbag lawyers and shit... well, I've got news for you, Arsehole! That was_ _ **self-defence**_! _Come up here, start a fucking Blight ,and you dare expect us not to fight back?!_ Luckily, I can't smell Darkspawn stink. _In fact, it smells more like... huh!_ I take a deeper sniff, and there's no mistaking it now. _Mistress! Let's go! Stu, get on your hands and knees, so you can walk_ _ **my**_ _way!_ I run ahead, making Mistress groan. "... We just ate. Leave the kitchen alone!"

 _Trust me, this is better than a kitchen!_ I race around a corner, and slide as I study the hallway. _That door! And... there she is!_ Running in, I leap up at her lap. _I **missed** you, my old friend! _She giggles, and pushes me back a little. "I don't think this chair can fit both of us, Max."

"Max, you idiot! Get back here" echoes, as I hear Mistress stomping down the hall.

"Mischievous as always" she laughs at Mistress' shouting, rubbing my ear. "What _is_ she to do with you?" _Rub my ears more often?_ I smile, leaning into her hand. _Because this is nice..._ "We're in here!"

 _Ha, **that** made Mistress stop! She should have trusted my nose. I could smell it was you, out there! _I smirk, as Mistress audibly jerks to a brief halt out in the corridor. "... Huh" I hear Mistress exhale, as she appears in the doorway. "... I was wondering who could have found me, _here_."

"I'm full of surprises, no?"Chirpy gloats, standing up.

 _Mistress, look! **Chirpy's** back! _

"Indeed you are" Mistress smiles, as they pull each other into a hug. "I certainly didn't think I'd see you so soon."

Chirpy makes a playful huff. "That's your own fault! Coming back to Ferelden, and _not_ telling me? For shame."

"Yes, yes. I'm a terrible person" Mistress grins, as they pull two of the chairs nearer.

"Perhaps just _forgetful_ " Chirpy answers. "At least you'll have people to remind you of such things, now you're an Arlessa."

"They can try – even Nan had trouble. Maybe they'll try the subtle approach, instead."

"You certainly didn't" Chirpy notes. "You thought tracking you here would have been hard, with your typical trail of dead bandits and Darkspawn? Even if I _didn't_ recognise Daylen's particular magic woundings, there was little mistaking who had travelled **that** path."

"What can I say? I'm a woman of style." They both laugh at that, and Chirpy looks at the door.

"I assume they're all here as well?"

"Of course – you should come say hello. They'd all like to see you again, too. Probably even Loghain."

"Oh? I would have thought-"

Mistress shrugs. "Orlais? They tried, but I over-ruled that and sent notes to delay it. I..."

"Need everyone you can get, yes. I was in Highever, hoping to find you still with your brother... while I was there, the Queen arrived and told us what happened." Chirpy voices, sympathetically. "Then I came to the farmlands, and saw your warning signs outside a large property." _Right, the apple farm._

"Just the four of us" Mistress sighs, rubbing her hands. "I fought a Blight, with less... but this might be worse."

"Because you don't have people like me?" Chirpy asks, watching as Mistress pushes the door shut.

"There's that, as well" Mistress begins, taking a seat. "... It's the Darkspawn. They can talk now. And plan ambushes. It was not just a mindless raid, they struck with design."

"... _What?_ " Chirpy stammers, her eyes widening.

"Yes. Their Lieutenant waited for me, to give a **message**. The leader is some kind of necromancer, from what I understand... I'm going to approach the Templars, for help."

Chirpy's finger twitch, as she sits silently. "... I suppose my warning is going to sound like nothing, now. But you should still be careful. I've kept ears in place, and you were right. Howe's former supporters _are_ scheming against you already"

Mistress frowns, tapping her chair's armrest. "Of course... she's currently just measuring me up, with little games. Outwardly, at least. I've taken my own steps, naturally."

"Naturally" Chirpy repeats. "I hoped you would, without my warning, but _forewarned is forearmed_ as they say. _"_ _And I'm four-_ _ **legged**_ _, so this Esmerelle trollop is gonna have more limbs coming at her than she can deal with!_

"... I don't suppose I can interest you in quitting the Temple expedition, to come fight Darkspawn like the old days?" Mistress asks, trying to smile.

"I would if I could, my friend" Chirpy sighs.

"Yeah, I know" Mistress says, with an apologetic expression. "But I had to ask... this would be easier if I had more than two of the old team – Loghain doesn't really count. It's a shame Shale is off wherever Wynne took her. I could use a crazy Golem right now."

"I don't know about Shale, but I believe Wynne is still back. She visited me not long ago, and said she was resupplying before going to a Circle Convention in Orlais... now I think about it, she did mention business in Amaranthine. She hoped to see you, if you returned to Ferelden in time."

"Huh" Mistress smiles, for real. "I hope she's still there... I won't try to recruit her, but she could _definitely_ help me."

"Oh yes?"

Mistress drums the armrest with three fingers, now. "One would assume the Grand Enchanter will attend such a Convention." T _hat's probably conventional for a Convention. And you've got your schemey face on. Or is that just your strategy face?_

"I expect so...?" Chirpy nods.

"I have a few questions the Enchanter should be able to help with... and I know Wynne is stubborn enough to make _sure_ the woman gets my letter herself. It won't just sit on an assistant's desk somewhere for eight months..."

"I smell a story" Chirpy smirks.

"... Oh, it's a **big** one" Mistress answers, looking back at the door. "If you ever come by the Keep, I'll tell you. It's not one to tell where we might be overheard."

"You _better_ not just be trying to lure me in with that, after I couldn't help ... if I wake up, in Warden armour, there'll be" Chirpy's jesting trails off, when Mistress stares at the floor.

"I wouldn't risk that. Not again..."

Chirpy leans forward, in her chair. "You don't mean..." She gets up, and pulls Mistress into another hug. "Mhairi?"

Mistress shakes her head, bumping it against Chirpy's shoulder, while hiccuping out a couple of sobs. "I couldn't stop her... I couldn't _help_ her!"

"Hey... hush. It's not your fault" Chirpy whispers, rubbing her back.

"When... I thought we had _solved_ it, when Oghren was fine. But I had to watch her, choking... Daylen fucked something up. She was meant to **be fine!** "

"No, none of that" Chirpy sooths. " _Nobody_ knows, until they drink. Alistair told me that much about the Joining. You can't blame anyone... she wouldn't have. She wanted me to tell you that, if _this_ day came."

Mistress pulls back a little, red-eyed. "... What?"

"She came to see the Temple, a month or two ago. After she returned from the summit, we spoke. She said the Temple had given her peace. Come what may." Chirpy digs into her pouch, and inspects some of the papers she pulls out. "... _This_ one." She holds out an envelope. "I was to make sure you got this, or to burn it, depending on what happened."

Mistress clumsily drops back into her seat, staring at the letter in her hands. "..."

"... I'll let you read it?" Chirpy offers.

"Max... go show her where the others are. I..." _You want to be alone, when you read it. I know._

We step out, and Chirpy softly pushes the door shut. "... Lead on, Max" she says, glumly, before adopting a smile. "Must have a smile for our friends. Right?" _Sure - don't let on about Mistress, unless she wants to tell them. Good plan._ We start down the hallway, when she looks down. "... Did she say Oghren?"

* * *

 _ **I started playing Inquisition again, with a (nearly) Max-adjacent World State just to see how things would play out. Leliana's line about the Warden being the only person she still trusts made me**_ **have _to fit her in again somewhere... and Mistress really needed a friend right about now. There's no way a master spy wouldn't be listening in on the Amaranthine scheming, after all._**

 _ **Thanks to everyone reading/following, and Melysande for her feedback.**_


	12. Sales are down, at the Tevinter Emporium

_Well, that was disappointing. Don't get me wrong, seeing Chirpy was **great** ; but she's not rejoining the Team? We're gonna go see Biddy instead? Who doesn't even have Rumble with her? What a crap reunion this is shaping up to be! _Worst of all, Mistress won't even look at anyone. That must have been some letter Ree left. _She wasn't the sort to leave a spiteful thing, so hopefully Mistress just needs to think a little. Hopefully she can process stuff, while Braids is asking dumb water questions. It's simple – just don't drink seawater, you moron. Or rivers connected to the sea. Or if they have a dead animal upstream, that you don't know about... okay, that's a hard one to spot if you don't know about it. At least they're teaching him about rain now. Even **he** should be able to understand._

"... What's saluting got to do with anything?" _Wrong kind of 'hail', moron._

Nail glances down at him. "Saluting?"

" _Hail_ " Scruffy comments, lazily slapping a hand to his head.

"Right" Nail sighs. "Hail also means _frozen_ water, that rains down sometimes."

"I thought that was snow" Braids frowns.

"No, snow is soft. Hail is more like small rocks – you'll know the difference, if it hits you."

"... The surface is **stupid**."

 _Maybe, but Orzammar is dumb too. Nugs, farting statues, **nugs** , rewarding women for being great fighters by tearing out their tongues! How the fuck is that even meant to be a reward?! 'Welcome to the Sisterhood, Sister... now let us slice you up with a red-hot knife! It's a trust exercise.' At first, I thought it was just the Nobles down there, in their... place where they assemble. The Beardsmeet? Close enough – point is, the nobles weren't the only mad ones. Wasn't just all the paperwork and rules and such, whenever you went to the Shaperate or the Beardsmeet to register a galley or whatever making people insane. But no – the Shaperate isn't the place that sends you mad, it's Orzammar **itself**. Even the peasants in the Tattoo Alienage section were crazy. Like that dozy woman who ran the evil transport Carters – she saw Mistress lead us in, everyone covered in her goons' blood and carrying neat weapons, and thought 'I should really try to fight these people, instead of running for my escape tunnel!' Did I mention nugs?_

Wait, what were we talking about? _The Beardsmeet. No – not all of the guys assembled there had beards, and only a couple of the women did, if you looked really close at them. I guess it's called the Cavesmeet, where they all assemble. Since they don't really have 'lands' underground. Speaking of assembled nobles and what to call them, do we just call Esmerelle's little forced party a reception? No wonder they built the portcullis back-to-front... all the local gate-crasher nobles bribed the construction team so no Arls or Arlessas would ever be able to lock them out. Toad-Face probably squirreled away the money to fix it, but decided to be a cheap old bastard instead. Heh..._ _ **squirrel**_ _! I wish I had one of them to chase, right about now. The only thing I've seen today was a badger, and those mean pricks aren't any fun. I learnt that when I was still a wee pup. 'Greetings, my striped friend! Are you as bored as me? Then how about I chase you around for a bit?!' Perfectly reasonable request, there's no disputing that – yet the surly little shit_ _ **still**_ _wanted to bite off half my snout! Like I was one of them Dwarf Sisters or something. Complete and utter overreaction to a bit of harmless fun._

"What about waterfalls?" _Oh, right. The water thing._

"Those are fine, Oghren" Scruffy answers.

"Especially if there's rocks up top" Nail adds. "The moss on them helps clean the water, so it's better to fill your skins where water rushes over a lot of them." _Did you make that up?_

"No, I mean sea waterfalls. In the ocean"

… _Huh?!_

"That's... not a thing" Scruffy answers, before looking at Nail. "That isn't a thing, right?"

" **No** " he scoffs in response.

Oghren ponders it for a moment. "Boss! Your sailor mother ever say if sea waterfalls exist?"

"... You mean a whirlpool?" Mistress wearily asks, not looking back.

 _No, I think he means like an actually proper waterfall in the middle of the ocean. I suppose it **might** work, if the Darkspawn got particularly lost and tunnelled up into the Waking Sea or something...but would it just drain the oceans forever, or is there enough water in the world to fill the Deep Roads? Hmm. I should write Weisshaupt, and see if they've ever done a cost-analysis on cracking the sea bed to **drown** the fuckers down beneath. How watertight is that big door in Orzammar? We'd have to check that out, I suppose, if we're particularly worried about Dwarf safety. I'm more of a conceptual thinker, so the Wardens can figure out the finer details of Operation Inundation. It's only fair – I'm giving them the brilliant idea **and** the codename. All I need in return is credit. And a thank you. A big statue of me, like the ones Mistress got outside the Landsmeet Hall and in Highever wouldn't be unwelcome, for that matter. Oh, and some bacon!_

"Shows what you two idiots know!" Braids gloats, as they both glare at him. "No wonder _you_ couldn't find the old King's boat, when you didn't even know about whirly pools."

"They're two different things" Nail grunts, visibly pissed off at that remark about the King.

"Idiot" Scruffy snarls. "She hasn't talked since Leliana left... and you ask her stupid shit like _that_?"

"It's called _engagement_ " Braids answers, still smirking. "She helped me get out of mood holes over people, twice, so the least I can do is return the favour." _Mood hole? That... sounds like one of my words. Don't steal my bit, Braids – I'm Mistress' deuteragonist, and you would do well to remember that!_

 _Or is it the other way around, at times like now, when she doesn't talk? I mean, it_ _ **is**_ _The Tale of Lord Maxwell. Says so, right up top. You guys can all see it, right? Melysande, you must have noticed that? So it stands to reason that this is my story. But she's the Hero, of Ferelden_ _ **and**_ _of 'The Denerim' if you ask Little Orphan Ollie and his mates. Regardless, there's nobody I'd rather split status with than you, Mistress. We're co-heroes, and Team Max were our awesome band of loveable misfit sidekicks. I guess Qunie was there as well. He's back across the sea, wherever Qun Island actually is. That's where they live, right? Or do they make the non-horned rejects live elsewhere? Like that's the main reason they're fighting Tevinter. 'The Qun demands we dump these smooth-headed freaks outside our borders.' And Tevinter was all 'We've got enough deviants already, don't throw your garbage on our land!' … I kinda hope Tevinter win, honestly. Maybe I'm selfish, but those bastards will get antsy if they lose any more territory. 'We once owned everything on the map... woe is the current state of the Tevinter Emporium. Business all went downhill after those glorious Mabari defected to our competitors. Now the only thing we can sell is Blood Magic, and that's mostly just internal demand within the Emporium.' Next thing you know, they're sneaking into Ferelden or Orlesia – making all kinds of troublesome botheration. The Black Divine will probably send some butt-ugly Magister down here to issue demands. 'Seeing as how the Chant Tree double-crossed the Elves who fought for Draste, you guys might as well abandon all the stuff she said. Come join us again!' And then the Divine sees the ugly freak, like he has lumps all over his head or something, marching into her meeting so she physically explodes from sheer shock and outrage. 'A Magister?!_ _ **Sacre Bleu**_ _!' Kaboom! Everything probably goes to shit after that... not to worry, though. At least us Grey Wardens will be around to save the day. Maybe we finally go beat the crap of Tevinter for starting the Blights in the first place. Would toppling their city be overkill? Anyway - just try your bullshit on us, you stupid old Magister freak – we'll smack you so hard you never come back! Bet he has a creepy skeleton hand, too._

Huh. Speaking of Qunie, what are the odds he'll get sent back down here? _'The Arishok heard some nonsense about talking Darkspawns, throwing some kind of Blight after-party and starting trouble again. Because I'm a lowly non-horned Qunari, checking out weird rumours is always_ _ **my**_ _responsibility.' Well, sucks to be you I guess... just keep waiting and hoping for a promotion, buddy. Or replace the Arishok's wine with fight juice so he goes berserk at some minor inconvenience and tries to start a war – make sure to look responsive, and stop him. Maybe they'll be impressed, and let you be his replacement. Also, Darkspawn is already plural. Nobody says Darkspawns. Except the Arishok, apparently. Maybe he's already losing his mind. Your time is coming, Qunie!_

Everyone's gone back to silence, so I guess the water trivia round is over.

 _Good news, Mistress. I just calculated some hypotheticals and Qunie is probably gonna come back and help, when word spreads about the situation. He'll admit he respects you, too!_

" _Good luck, my friend... be safe."_

" _I'll handle it, Leliana. Trust me."_

 _Smiling nod of the head, and "I **do** trust you" before Chirpy gave her one last hug and got on the horse. _

_Mistress' stunned look would be even more stunned this time, because Qunie always had to argue every damned idea of hers._ _Ooh! Maybe **Biddy** will say it, when we find her. I guess these reunions won't be so bad, after all. _Mistress could certainly do with hearing more people support her, right now. She deserves it regardless, but it has been a horrendous week. _Even that's an understatement. Nail had the right idea, I'll admit, when he bottled blood from some of the Darkspawn we killed on the apple farm. When we find some more recruits, there won't have to be any of that 'go out into the Wilds and hunt down some blood. We'll quickly nut out a half-arsed battle plan with King Shiny afterwards.' … Oh right, Nail was **at** that sorry excuse for a strategy session. Make sense that he wants to give recruits more time. No more of this 'now go run up a Tower and fight a giant fatarse' bullshit, right after being poisoned with Blight blood. I mean, Nan used to tell Mistress not to swim for an hour after eating. Going into **battle** , like five minutes after drinking that shit?! No wonder we got our butts stomped, up in the Tower. Liar, you were the biggest fucking idiot I ever did meet. Seriously. What the hell kind of moron stabs **Baldy** , when **Al** was right there?! If you had to murder anyone out of boredom or whatever, Liar, you really should have picked the Crybaby instead. Baldy would never have run away over not liking the Landsmeet's decision – because Baldy, my good ser, was no coward. Sure, our current Team Max line-up is pretty great... but I'll always wonder what kind of difference having Baldy and Stinky could have made. Stinky was an archer, if I remember right. Probably so they could make him stand upwind from the group. Still, we could certainly use an archer again... especially since Chirpy had to go back to helping that Murdertown Expedition with the Temple. _While I'm busy pondering, I run smack into Braids' leg.

 _ **OW!** Why did you stop so suddenly, you fat moron? _

"Problem, boss?" _Yes, there's a problem! A certain idiot stopped without warning, or consideration for anyone walking **behind** him!_

"Someone's lurking up near the bend" Nail answers, quietly. _What, behind that wall? There's only a slight wind, so they aren't just huddling in the lee-side._ "Seemed like he was watching the road, too."

 _Oh, it's probably just some hunter. We were meant to go to Amaranthine to meet some hunters, right? Maybe they gave up and came here. Hunters... archers. Hey! If they've got bows, why don't we recruit them? We need an archer, after all. Anyone would do, right now._

Neat, he's coming our way. _And he **has** got a bow! Mistress, recruit this guy! … Or move a hand to your sword? It's not like it's... Toad-Face Junior. Okay, now when I said **anyone**... I thought 'besides this arsehole' was obviously implied. Blessed Andrew, or whatever that old book called the Dalish God of Hunting again, might you please send us a different archer?!_

"Wait, I just want to talk." _Right... and Daddy Dearest just wanted to visit Highever, last year. Get fucked._ "You... just let me go. Despite what I might do next. I want to know why?" _Yeah, I didn't get it either. Mistress, just cut his throat. Teach this idiot not to argue with being spared. I mean, who does this?! Go live your life in peace, moron. You should have run back to wherever you crawled out from, you Toad._

She groans, and rubs her neck. "Like you said, you shouldn't all suffer for what he did. Go live your life in peace." _Exactly what I told him. Do you get the hint yet, idiot? Bugger off!_

"... I see." _Great, he understands. Now get lost!_ "Take me with you. Make me a Grey Warden."

 _Alright, now exactly which part of 'go away!' is confusing you? Is it **go** , or **away** , or are you just pretending to be deaf? Great Andrew of the Hunt, did I get your name wrong? It doesn't sound very Dalish, I know. Is that why he won't leave?! Because let's be sensible, you should be impressed a Mabari even knows about you – we usually worship Dane, and never even learn about other pantheons. If a Halla got your name wrong, I'd understand you being angry... but this is just kind of petty. Make him go away. You owe us Mabari, for the time a hound chased off whatshisname – the Dalish God of being an arsehole, or whatever the deal was with that Wolf guy the other Creators all hate. And we've helped Dalish clans watch out for him ever since, if I remember the story right._

"That's **not** living your life, Nathan" Mistress points out. "... It's more likely to end it."

"I expected to die in there, already. Maybe I _wanted_ to..." _Great! Scruffy, be a good chap and set him on fire._ "Let me try, at least. Please."

Mistress lets out another weary groan, as she notices _everyone_ staring at her. _I don't_ ** _want_** _to rush you, like these idiots... but I get why they're all gawking so expectantly. Say the word, and I'll chase him all the way to Orzammar, if he doesn't give up before then._

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

 **A late chapter for me - what a shock, right? Work's hit the crazy-busy stretch of the year, so it'll probably be stop-start for a while. Apologies, and thanks for still reading and such. Max, any thoughts?**

 _Not really, but... oh, wait! **Assembly!** That's what they call the Cavesmeet assembling hall. I just remembered._

 **Thanks for that - I can drop that stupid joke now, instead of bringing it back in a few chapters to pay off, so I'm glad.**

 _Don't blame me, man. You wrote it._


	13. It's been a long time since last week!

_Huh?_ I snap awake, and look around. _It's just someone knocking. Go away!_ Mistress stirs, and drags herself up. _Tell them to go away!_ "Yes?"

"It's Captain Garavel, Commander." _Oh, it's Garavel – **go away** , Garavel!_

The idiot doesn't say any more, before Mistress slides on a gown. _No point letting your mattress get cold..._ She opens the door, while I'm climbing up, and wearily yawns. "Don't tell me Esmerelle arrived _already_..."

"Thankfully not" he answers. "But two horses are gone. All the troops are accounted for, so unless there's a small team on a mission I was unaware of, you may have some deserters."

Mistress scratches her head, momentarily. "... Oh. Loghain must have taken our new _recruit_ out for his trial. When he mentioned it, I thought he meant at a reasonable hour... not skulking away before dawn, without telling the sentry." Her eyes flash an unspoken insult, about Nail's intelligence and parentage. _I hope the idiot doesn't have a habit of sneaking away while everyone's asleep._ "... I'll have a word with him, with he returns." _How about two words? 'Fucking idiot.' Just for starters._

"Very well. I'll return to my duties" Garavel departs with a salute.

Mistress yawns again, and looks over at me. "Get **off** the bed, Max." _You're already awake, you don't need it anymore._ With a sigh, she opens the dresser. "We're awake already, may as well see about breakfast. It's going to be a long day..." _That statement doesn't make me want to get off this nice bed. Just saying. I mean, at least Toad-Face Junior got enough sleep since you told him to retire after dinner. 'Sleep well, the Joining will most likely kill you in the morning' or whatever it was you said, again. Until Nail dragged him out at dawn, I mean. Probably a good idea, simply to get the creep out of here for when Esmerelle and company show up. Eating our food, drinking our wine... rummaging through our cupboards. Having a_ _ **Howe**_ _around might give them murdery ideas about Mistress._

She has one slipper on, when she glances at her armour. "... No, they won't be missing their _own_ breakfast. I don't need to look the part just yet." _True – besides, you don't need to impress those arseholes anyway!_ As she's tightening the belt on her robes, Mistress jabs the laurel pattern. "I better get the Amaranthine bear on some clothes, now... _is_ Amaranthine's emblem the bear, or was that just the Howes?" _Hell if I know. Ask Varel._ "I should ask Varel, later." _Yep._

We enter the dining hall, to find Braids and Scruffy already there. "Good morning."

Scruffy gives a weary nod, and mutters something. Scoffing, Braids stands in greeting. "Ignore him, boss. Woke him early, since they'll probably be moving all the chairs out to make room today. Got your sodding nobles coming, after all."

Mistress nods. "That was my thinking, too. Since we don't know _when_ they might start arriving. I _assume_ not before midday. Until they do, the day is yours. Just make sure your armour's presentable for the ceremony."

"Great" Braids smirks. "I'm gonna get that Howe in the practise yard!"

"Didn't they leave already?" Scruffy asks. "I'm sure I heard someone shuffling about, earlier."

"They did" Mistress answers.

"Damn" Braids shrugs. "Ah well – making the pampered bastard get up at sparrowfart is good, too. I'll just have to smack him up and down the yard _later_."

* * *

 _Huh, the courtyard really does look busy, when everything's set up. And Madam Goat says we'll have more people, if we clear the roads. Captain Kaboom and his brother – I can't wait to see what they'll do, now Mistress gave them a crapload of coin. That rude lady we saved, out in the farmlands; at least she's apologising. Probably too much, now. But it's all good. This new guy seems to know Mistress._ He waves us over, while his buddy whines about the location. "The _middle_ of nowhere, too! I don't care for this Turnip Keep at all, Herren!" _The middle of nowhere gets a bad rap – it's the **southwest** of nowhere you have to look out for. Go too far that way, and you start meeting demon cats and smart-mouthed golems. Don't even get me started on Murder Town... anyway, back to Inspection. The courtyard looks fine to me, for when the idiots all start arriving._

"Wade, **please**! I'm sorry, Arlessa – it's fortunate the Queen hired us to assist your efforts, actually. He's completed his repairs-"

" _Adjustments_! Anyone can _repair!_ " Wader moans, throwing his hands about.

"-Adjustments, to the armour your colleague commissioned, and it's all ready to use once more."

 _Oh, sweet! The dragon-bone gear again! Wait, so you guys made it?! I'm just going to say it, you two do **outstanding** work. _

"Excellent" Mistress smiles. "You both have my" _Oi!_ " _Our_ thanks."

"Not a problem at all... and let me know, if you source the ore I mentioned." _I like you, Heron; you're clearly the friendlier half of... hmm._ _ **Are**_ _those two a couple, or not? I wonder. They bicker like they are; and they sound like they should be: Heron and Wader. Birds of a feather, and all that._

"Of course she will" Wader grumbles. "There's _nothing_ out here but rocks and mines!"

 _Don't worry, Wader, Amaranthine City is on the coast. You can still go eel-hunting on your days off._

"I'll see how it fits, and bring it back if any straps need adjusting" Mistress says, as a couple of guards help her pick up all the armour pieces.

"I don't do **those** adjustments!" Wader complains, while Heron pinches his nose with a groan. "I'm an _artist_!" _You're a lunatic – and not the fun kind._

* * *

Sighing, Mistress sways between her feet again while watching her reflection copy the movement. _I vote for 'off', myself. You only just got that armour back. Don't cover it up._

She slips the cloth down over her head again, and returns her gaze to the mirror. "...Do I want the tabard, or not? There's definitely not time to get the Griffons _painted_ on this." She stares for a moment, shaking her head. "Or do I just wear a dress?"

"I vote armour" Braids says, appearing at the door. "I only saw the one Landsmeet, but your politics are close enough to Orzammar's. **And** some of these nug-sniffers supported the last guy... I'd be more surprised if they _don't_ want to stab you."

"True..." she exhales, fingering the tabard.

"As for the... over-skirt, or whatever that thing is? I reckon leave it off" Braids adds. "This is a noble thing, not a Commander thing. Polish that kit nice and bright, so the reflection _shines._ Out-sparkle the swishy lords and ladies."

"Thanks, Oghren" she mumbles, from pulling the cloth over her face. "I'm glad you showed up... Max was no help."

 _Do I **look** like I give a damn about your sartorial crises? I've been listening to such nonsense for years – and guess what? I still don't even know the difference between a jerkin and a doublet!_

"Typical mutt... he probably just came along, to lie on your bed." _You shut your fucking tattle-tale mouth, Braids!_

"Typical, indeed..." Mistress says, pointing at the floor and whistling. _Yes, that sure is a nice carpet. What's your point?_

"Anyway, they sent me along to fetch ya – the first fancy wagon arrived."

"Lovely" Mistress groans, shooting me _the look_. I jump down, begrudgingly. "Esmerelle? Or is she waiting to make an entrance?"

"Nope!" he grins. "Came from the wrong direction... your **brother's** here, and he brought company."

 _Awesome!_

"... I" Mistress stops, and glances at the mirror again. Allowing herself a nervous smile, she tosses the tabard onto **our** bed. "Let's go, Max."

We reach the main hall, and find Furgus already inside. Chatting with Scruffy and Old Man Varel. _Hello! Hi! It's been such a very long time since last week!_ He slides one hand onto my neck, to stop me leaping up, and the other hand rubs my ears. _Oh good, he still remembers me and how I like my ear-rubs!_

"Easy, Max" he grins. "Don't scrunch my pants – I need to look perfect for her official welcoming."

 _Don't you start with that, I already had to listen to her for ages. Clothes are dumb... so long as nobody's smuggling in Schleet assassins, who the hell cares what clothes are what?!_

"Fergus!" Mistress calls, pacing over to us. "This is a surprise?" I step back, as they pull each other into a hug. _So who's your 'company', then?_ I glance behind him, and have to look twice at both people lurking back there. _Chirpy?! Huh – I guess she didn't have to go back. And... the biggest woman I ever saw. Now_ _ **that's**_ _a Qunari!_

"As if I'd miss your presentation, Sister" Furgus smiles. "I'm just glad Eddelbrek's note arrived, telling me Esmerelle was springing it on you." He gestures at... _I think I'll call you Queenari._ "Shokrakar and her company arrived, to help clear out the bandits around Highever. Until I can rebuild our forces. They seem to be getting worse, in the outskirts..." _A Mercenary, huh? You do look the part, Queenari - in a good way! Let's never fight... please?!_

"So I hear" Mistress nods. "I dealt with _two_ groups in as many days."

He waves Queenari over. "Of course you did. Shokrakar, meet my little sister. Ending a Blight wasn't enough, now she's trying to steal your work."

Queenari smirks. "Rumour has it we owe our opportunity here to you, Warden, so I'll let it slide" she says, offering a hand. "Kadan-Fe used to have most of the Ferelden contracts locked up, but a _bird_ told me the Valo-Kas have you to thank for creating this opening." She slaps her other fist to her chest in salute. "Hope you don't mind me crashing your party, but I thought I'd come mingle – see if we can't scrounge some more business from the local nobles."

"Unless the sodding bandits raid, while you're hobnobbing down here" Braids jeers.

Queenari laughs. "Let them try – I left little Adaar in charge, and he's been aching for a chance to impress me. Job goes well, I might even let him _run_ the Fereldan jobs when we get a foothold down here."

"... Not taking the bait, huh? I'll cut right to the chase, then" Braids shrugs. "Wanna go spar? I never could talk the other guy into a fight, and I still want to try a Qunari."

"You got **guts** , little man... how about after the banquet? Bruises aren't good for business" Queenari offers. _Scars look cool, though. And you've got some **fascinating** ones._

Braids frowns, before Mistress glances at him. " _After_. I don't want my people standing around bruised, either."

"Have it your way, boss" he grumbles, before turning to Chirpy. "Couldn't stay from me, huh? It's okay to admit it."

"Another change of plans" Chirpy tells Mistress, ignoring Braids' leer. "The Grand Cathedral are sending someone, so I'm to meet their ship in Denerim. Time enough for me to blend into your reception, and learn what only I can?"

Mistress smiles, knowingly. "I fear the local lack of subtlety might disappoint you, but you know you're always welcome here."

"Yes, Fereldans _are_ rather obvious – but it's good practise, in case I ever return to Orlais" Chirpy playfully jabs.

" _Bards_ " Queenari mutters to herself.

Mistress slaps a hand on Furgus' shoulder. "... We need to talk, while we have a chance. Alone?"

"I suppose we do" he nods. "Lead on?"

* * *

I _just_ slip into the room, before Mistress clicks it shut. _Can't have a family talk, without me._ She sighs, and sits on the edge of the bed. "There's something... well, you won't like it but I need to tell you." _I better leave him a spot on the bed._ I drop down on the carpet. _Huh. This **is** nice and comfy. No wonder she pointed it out to me, earlier._

He gives her a curious look, and sits beside her. "Let me go first?" he asks, before wrapping a reassuring arm across her shoulders. "I'm sorry about Mhairi, and the rest of your people."

She nods, apprehensively. "... Thanks. I-"

"Sshh. Take a breathe, and then tell me. It'll be fine."

"Nothing is fine" Mistress whispers. "Everything keeps going wrong. And now the Darkspawn are even worse!"

"Yeah... I didn't want to believe what Anora said, but Daylen and your seneschal confirmed it." He squeezes her far shoulder. "But you've got your friends with you, and I'll help however I can. Once the Kas clear out the hills-"

"Even though you're going to hate me, for what I did?" she quietly asks.

"You couldn't make me do that" he instantly answers, with a concerned look. "Why would you even think I could?"

"... We had a volunteer. I _had_ to say yes, with what's happening." She shakes her head. "He came back. Nathan Howe – I let him join. You didn't even want me looking for Delilah, so _this_ - _"_

"Mandy..." he lets his arm drop, and sighs. "As long as I don't have to see him, I suppose I'll be alright. I'll admit I don't like the idea, but _a Cousland always does her duty_. Even when it sticks in your throat."

Mistress flinches, but weakly smiles. "Do you promise you don't hate me?"

" Just because I hate the situation, don't _ever_ think I hate **you**. Why would you even think I might?"

"... Alistair did. Still does, now, when I found him in the Marches. I don't want that to happen again, with my _real_ brother. He abandoned me, Mhairi's gone... don't you leave me, too!" she pleads, wiping at her tears.

"Look at me, Sister" he demands, gruffly. "I promise you **two** things, right now. I'll _always_ be on your side, no matter what. I love you." He puts his arm back up, and pulls her into a sideways hug.

"... The second thing?"

Furgus scowls to himself, while she slides down into the embrace. "If I ever meet Alistair, I **will** punch him in the face."

Mistress gives a shaky laugh. "Just once, though."

"Oh, _fine_. I'll try to restrain myself" he concedes, kissing the top of her head. He glances around the room, letting Mistress stay in place. "You got your fancy armour repaired." _**Adjusted**_ _._ "It looks nice."

"I'm going to wear it, for the reception" Mistress says, sitting up. "Too much?"

"No, you should show them who they're dealing with. Especially Esmerelle." He grabs the Warden tabard, still hanging on the headrest. "Wear this, too. Remind them _exactly_ who you are, and what you can do."

She nods. "I couldn't decide on that... but you're right. Especially with the Darkspawn coming back."

"I'll let you finish getting ready" Furgus offers, standing up. At the doorway, he stops. "Oh, and Mandy?"

"Yes?"

He motions to his face, smirking. "Clean yourself up. You look _ghastly_."

With an exasperated huff, she hurls the nearest pillow at him. "Shut up.."

* * *

 ** _No family rifts here - Couslands stand together._**

 **As always, thanks to everyone reading/following/reviewing.**


	14. Pimping Ain't Easy

**Everything is, of course, property of BioWare; I'm just playing with their toys. So they have my thanks. (As does the Dragon Age Wiki: it's a great help for sudden questions like 'why _does_ that Innkeeper pay you for bringing him so many random love letters?'. Turned out the answer was 'potential blackmail material', but Max doesn't need to know that. He and I are too busy to remember flavour text for side-quests.)**

* * *

 _Oh, hello. Movement. They must be starting to arrive... which would explain why we're standing out here like idiots, in the corridor. Old Man Varel has to announce Mistress before she can enter the room... even though everyone knows she's here, since they weren't turned away. Also, she's the fucking reason they came out here to Turnip Keep. But **she's** the one stuck standing around waiting, because reasons. Stupid nobles and their stupid traditions. Wait... ah, now I get it! **Turn-up** Keep, because random weirdos keep turning up. Well played, Wader. I'll bring you back an eel, from the fish market. They sell those, right?_

I yawn. _Maybe we should have just pretended not to be home, and had Garevel tell them all to piss off... no, that wouldn't work. The portcullis control is on the_ _ **outside**_ _so you can't lock people out. Turnip Keep is a silly place._

"Lords and ladies" I hear Old Man Varel through the curtain. _I guess that's our cue._ Furgus gives Mistress a reassuring nod, as she pulls it aside and leads me and Furgus out into the hall. "I present the Warden-Commander of Ferelden, and Arl of Amaranthine." _She has a name, you old bastard, so - wait..._ _ **what**_ _**the fuck**_ _, Old Man? Did you_ _ **seriously**_ _just call her the 'Arl'?! Not to be rude, but I'm going to have to bite you when everyone leaves._

At least this guy immediately bowed, and stayed down. _I like you, buddy. What's the word.. deference! Yes. Your deference does you credit._

"Bann Esmerelle of Amaranthine, as customary, you have the honour of beginning." _You're our 100_ _th_ _customary, so you won the right to speak first._ _Or something._ Huh – she's got a weird rodent face. _Make sense, considering she was apparently in league with Toad-Face._

"I promise that I, Bann Esmerelle Brodie, will be faithful to the Arl in matters of life, limb and earthly honour." _So you're doing this 'Arl' bullshit as well, huh? So much for honour...and I could easily rip your leg open, to make you bleed away; so don't count on your limbs or life. Earthly – sure. We'll throw your corpse in the nearest bog._ "Never will I bear arms against her or her heirs. So I say in the sight of the Maker." _Yeah – that would probably_ _ **mean**_ _something, except even his most devoted zealots say he stopped giving a shit and abandoned the world. Swear to Dane, and then maybe I'll believe you... Rat-Face._ Lord Deference is next. Hopefully his vow is better.

"I promise that I, Lord Eddelbrek..." _Or it's just the same exact thing. Please tell me we don't have to listen to_ _ **all**_ _of them repeat it. This'll take a thousand hours..._

* * *

 _Holy shit, are we **done** yet?! _

"And so, the ceremony is complete."

 _Great – it only cost us precious hours of our lives, never to reclaim. Half of an hour is **still** an hour, so shut up. I'm counting it._

"Long live the Warden-Commander!" Lord Deference declares. _Yeah, I definitely like this guy._

Mistress must, as well, because we're walking over to him first. _Blow it out your arse, Rat-Face; we like this guy better. Also, you moved back into the crowd a little. We greet who's closest first, we're not gonna flit up and down the hall. That'd be stupid._

"Honoured to meet you, Warden-Commander. You come to us during desperate times."

"Not more nonsense about your precious farms, Eddelbrek" the guy next to him interrupts. _Shut up, arsehole! Nobody was talking to_ _ **you**_ _!_

"Out in the plains, beyond the comfort of city walls, the situation is dire!" _He's right, Arsehole; Mistress and I have seen it first-hand. Brekkie knows what's up._

"Speak your mind, Lord Eddelbrek" Mistress offers, ignoring Arsehole. "My father called you a friend, after all." _Okay,_ _ **that**_ _was meant for Arsehole, I assume. Know your place, you freak._

"So you remember me, young Cousland" Brekkie smiles. "Well, not so _young_ anymore." The smile falters. "I assure you, I had no idea about Howe's treachery... but that is not my concern today." _Probably not, but it's still good to hear._ "Even as we feast, today, the peasants on our lands are starving or worse."

"The city's defences are more important" Arsehole cuts in. _If you interrupt us again, Arsehole, I'll be ripping_ _ **your**_ _leg open, to test your oath._

"The silos may be full, _now,_ but if our farmers die, how will you replenish them?" _The silos or the farmers?_

"Ser Timothy and yourself both raise valid concerns" Mistress offers, with a peaceful tone. "I shall give each the due consideration." Arsehole must be satisfied, because he leaves with a bow. "You aren't wrong about the situation" Mistress tells Brekkie. "... I arrived too late, to the Turnoble lands."

"I heard you dealt with their attackers, at least" Brekkie replies, sympathetically. "More reason to make sure it doesn't happen again?"

She nods, with determination. "It shall not, if it be within my power."

"I see that Lord Eddelbrek wastes no time, in canvassing you for troops to defend his farms" Rat-Face says, suddenly joining in. _Yeah, I see you back there, Arsehole. You only left to send_ _ **this**_ _idiot over._ "Do not be deceived, Commander. He only cares about his livelihood." _Bullshit, lady. If that were true, he'd wait until the neighbouring farms were overrun before asking Mistress, so he could buy them up cheap in a few months and control the entire Arling._ "Amaranthine is the jewel of the Arling, and must be protected." _Oh,_ _ **your**_ _city? Who's pushing their own barrow now, huh? Fuck off, and take Arsehole with you._

"You think the city more important than the people, Bann Esmerelle?" Mistress asks.

"It's merely pragmatism, of course" Rat-Face answers. "Our southern brethren faced similar dilemmas, less than a year ago. Yet I understand their hamlets are already rebuilding, simply with straw and wood. Amaranthine was built over _generations_ , with far more than straw. If she falls, our great Arling will be diminished."

 _Oh, you're good. Not great, but you still know your words well._

Mistress rubs her chin, and walks with Rat-Face. "You raise a good point – I understand West Hills is still facing a lengthy reconstruction. There's a lesson there."

"Precisely, girl. Mac Tir _obsessed_ over the villages and countryside... for different reasons, yes, but it still led to disaster for Wulff. Did it not?"

"You believe a centralised approach will work better" Mistress muses, as they move about the room to swap greetings with various people.

"Most certainly. You seem wise enough to learn from other people's mistakes, and Ferelden was far too fragmented during the Blight." Rat-Face pauses. "If half of this gossip about the new incursions by Darkspawn turns out to be correct..."

Mistress frowns. "True. They already struck here, hoping to kill me. If I learnt anything during the last year, it's to only allow my enemies _one_ chance at a strike. They failed, and now I shall destroy them before they can regroup."

"Indeed" Rat-Face nods, looking impressed. "That's what I hoped to hear. Some might whisper you survived by blind luck, but women like us know _luck_ requires a great deal of hard work."

"Too true... I look forward to working you, to secure our Arling."

Rat-Face gives a quick kneel, before moving off to talk to some other woman. Mistress glances to her left, while I nudge her. _Mistress, this might turn into a real party after all... that girl lurking over by the bookshelf has been watching you intently for a while. She doesn't carry herself like a noble, either, so I'm guessing she bluffed her way in just to get a look at you._

Mistress looks over, and notices the nervous girl as well. _There you go – she either has a message, or a bad case of infatuation. Of course, this is you we're talking about, so it might be both._

"Warden-Commander!" she stammers, when we approach. "... We've all heard _so_ much about you!" _Yep, here we go again..._ "So many good things – **unbelievable** things!" _Oh, she's got it bad._ She glances about, straightening herself up. "But many of those deeds cost people _here_ chances at advancement" she whispers. _Uhh... so are you here to chat Mistress up, or get revenge for something?! This woman's a bard like Chirpy, I assume. Or this is a warning, and she's dumb enough to say this shit where anybody can hear her, if they're careful enough._

Mistress leans closer, warily. "If you're talking about what I think you are, I'm well aware of the dangers. And why we shouldn't be talking about this, in public."

"Perhaps you are not aware of their determination." _What, are you calling Mistress a liar?! Not_ _ **all**_ _Warden-Commanders are Liars, lady. Don't lump Mistress in with the last guy!_ "I've... intercepted some of their missives. They are _cryptic_ thing..." _Oh, those things again? We solved this mystery during the Blight – turns out they were just random love letters. We sold them to an innkeeper. I don't know_ _ **why**_ _the old pervert wanted them, and I don't care to find out._ "Alone, they are unintelligible; but together they form a pattern." _… Or this woman's a conspiracy nut. 'The shadows in the painting of you, standing on the Archdemon's body, are wrong. That proves the Blight was a hoax!' This is all your fucking fault, Nail. You spent so long, telling these freaks there was no Blight that they still believe it. The only way to beat insane nonsense is with an even dumber theory... hmm._ I look up, triumphant. _I've got a_ _ **doozy**_ _! Hey, nutcase? Did you know... that old King Maric isn't dead? Yep, he totally staged that shipwreck so he could retire and live a secret life of debauchery out in the middle of nowhere. With a scantily-dressed Antivan strumpet, because why not. She even still has her brothel stage-name... something real obvious, too. 'Hey, big man – You wanna-'... Yeah! Her stage-name is 'Yawana'. Or something like that. I don't know – we Mabari don't have brothels and such. Well, we_ _ **do**_ _get studded out to Mabari breeders if our bloodline is good. Or we help save the world. I'm_ _ **both**_ _, so you better believe they wanted to hire me for a while. That was a fun couple of months, let me tell you... even if I had to be away from Mistress, while she went to Wisehive to see the Warden-King._ Huh. _Does that make Mistress my_ _ **madame**_ _? I suppose it's not the worst job in Thedas, getting pimped about like that... but I didn't see any of the money, and it's tiring work after a while. There were times I just wanted to nap and let my energy bar refill. Alas, we Lords have to work for the public good – and this particular public good just so happened to involve getting my end away with some_ _ **fine**_ _Mabari bitc... wait, I guess they'd actually be called dams, because they're certified breeders._

Mistress suddenly nudges me. _Huh?! … What were we talking about? Wait, where did the conspiracy freak go? Did she... walk away, while I was deep in thought? That's just bloody rude, that is. Fine, then she better not expect me to pay attention next time. 'Did you know Thedas is secretly round? That's why the Qunari suddenly appeared out of nowhere! They sailed down from the top of the ball. And because it's_ _ **uphill**_ _, they can't sail back up there, which is why they won't leave.' Well screw you, nutcase. I'll just burp on your shoes! What nonsense – everyone knows Thedas is shaped like the thighbone of a druffalo. The things you humans call stars are really distant ants in the sky, watching us at night to see if they can pick the meat off the apparent thighbone. But our nocturnal torch movements and candle-lights scare them away. Why do you think people even light candles and fires, instead of just going to sleep when night falls? For leisure?! No, my poor little idiot – it's so the_ _ **sky-ants**_ _don't devour us all. Tcch... bloody conspiracy freaks, ignoring the truth in favour of whatever bizarre notions their fevered brains vomit up. The ancient Dwarves knew about the Ants! That's why they tunnelled out subterranean cities and taught their children to fear the open sky... alas, living underground for so many Ages drove them all insane and they forgot the reasons for it._

Why is it so quiet, suddenly? _Everyone's leaving – oh, the party must be over. Lady Conspiracy Freak didn't even get to hear how the Ants are why the Dalish never stay in one place too long. "May the Dread Wolf never hear your steps. Nor the Ants see them." Everyone always forgets to say the second part. Probably. I don't know. But they're probably why Schleets stick to forests – no hands means no fires at night, and the trees make it harder for Ants to find them._

I wander over, to where all the others are meeting. "Alright, that seems to have gone well, I suppose" Mistress says. "Anything to report?"

 _Our sentries on the battlements haven't run in, screaming, so we don't have to worry about Ants today._

"The booze is weak" Braids answers. _Yeah,_ _ **that's**_ _helpful. Wait... maybe it actually is! We can do the Red Cliff trick again, only this time use it to burn the Ants instead of the attacking dead guys._ "So weak that the drunk idiot I talked to must have gotten smashed _before_ showing up."

"Lord Guy did sound particularly uneven" Furgus nods. _If you don't know his name, just say so! 'Lord Guy'... You human people are so rude when you try to be polite. Don't you agree, Old Man?_

"He was dressed like one, yeah" Braids shrugs. "Anyway, the woman with him was whispering, and occasionally pointing people out. By my experience with Noble Caste, I reckon she was trying to talk him into something shifty. Probably about you, Boss. "

Mistress frowns. "Which woman?" _Furgus, if you say 'Lady Woman'... I may have to pee on you. Just don't._

Old Man ponders something for a moment. "Lady Morag, I believe."

 _Who the hell is **Morag**?! … And what do you believe her about?_

"Right" Mistress sighs. "She was meant to get the Broughtens' lands, so of course she's part of this."

Scruffy shrugs. "I didn't _hear_ anything, but Lady Packton briefly glared at you a couple of times. That was it, for my part of the room."

"This isn't my strong suit, so I only really overheard one of them talk about you" Queenari says, leaning forward in her chair. "It's not really useful to all this, but you _might_ want to know. The young girl, who was standing near the door. She couldn't stop gushing about you rescuing her, to anyone who'd listen. All about your prowess and ample virtues. That kind of thing." _Oh, Eileen Two-Legs and her dad were here?_ "She looked cute, if you're into people like her..." she shrugs.

Braids sniggers. "If she could tell how ample your _virtues_ are, she really must have been staring a hole in your armour" he leers, poking his chest-piece. "You wear thicker stuff than I do, after all."

Mistress shoots Furgus a look, and subtly points to the back of her head. While he whacks Braids in the same blind-spot, Chirpy groans. " **Anyway** _..."_ _Sorry, Chirpy. You might have better luck getting a proper War Table conversation elsewhere, away from these idiots. Orlesia invented The Game, right? Maybe if you go back there, everyone will play strategy with you._ "Bann Esmerelle played along with Varel's _mistake_."

With another sigh, Mistress rolls her shoulders. "Yes. I worried it might have been too obvious a test, but she went for it. If it were merely a power posture, she would have pointedly said _Arlessa_ so everyone could chuckle and hoot at Varel's apparent slip of the tongue. She didn't apologise, sincerely or otherwise, when we talked . She didn't offer a chiding remark about disciplining my people better... not even a veiled complaint about Eddelbrek correcting her." _So he did that on purpose... okay, Old Man. I guess I can't bite you for it. Just don't do it again._

"Okay, but what does all that mean?" Garevel asks.

 _What **does** that mean?_

"She doesn't think I'll be in power long enough to bother placating or toying with" Mistress answers, rubbing her head. "Thus, she's involved. What a shame; I admired Esmerelle, when I was younger – for a moment there, while we were talking, I thought we _could_ have worked together."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Blight Truther conspiracy nuts would be the absolute worst, and I imagine there's a lot of them in Thedas. Especially Orlais.**

 **I assume Varel/Esmerelle calling a female Commander 'Arl' is just a bug, but I got some story detail out of it.**

 **As always, thanks to everyone reading, following and reviewing.**


	15. From Seawolf to Mother Bear

**Wherein Eleanor the Mother Bear took a firm hand with anyone who hurt her children... even her children themselves. (It _started_ unintentionally, but her and Oriana being protective is a thing this time, plus some certain other mothers get mentioned, so consider it the Mother's Day chapter. Thanks, Mum; love you.)**

* * *

 _Waiting time, again. I'm sure Mistress knows what she's doing... but waiting sure is boring. How dangerous could Toad-Face's basement be? Nail said Toad-Face Junior did fine, hunting wolves and shit in the woods. I suppose she's right, though – the important thing is how he handles fighting Darkspawn, and it **felt** like there's some down there, beyond the rubble pile. If he doesn't fuck it up and get killed, or try something and make Mistress or Braids or Scruffy kill him... I wish I could kill him, if he does, but I had to stay up here with Nail. It's not like Nail needs me to help boss around the soldiers. But if he makes it out, then I suppose it's time for another Joining. He better be worth it, since Furgus and Queenari left to avoid acknowledging him... and to do all the Teyrn paperwork that's piled up in the year Highever didn't have one. Chirpy had to go meet some Fussy Woman – hopefully they all come back in Cloudreach, for Mistress' birthday. It's not **that** far away, now I think about it. So we just have to tell these new Darkspawn to fuck off back to whatever hole they crawled out from, within two months, so we can have an awesome party. And this time, Bann Rat-Face and her troupe of idiots aren't invited!_

It sounds like they're coming back out. I glance back, and notice the dimming sun. _Good thing, too. It's almost dinner._

Mistress and the Sergeant woman emerge first, Mistress with soot and what smells like Dead Guy dust in her hair. _Bone Monsters again? … Yeah, of course Toad-Face had a haunted crypt under his Keep. That's just the kind of fuckwit he was. Is it weird we've fought them enough, all over the country, that I can recognise the odour now?_ She gestures for Braids and the sergeant to keep Toad-Face Junior walking, up to the Keep. Wiping more crap off her helmet, she looks up when Scruffy stops next to us.

"... So I'll tell Varel he gets to try doing the mixture, since he wanted to last time."

Shoving the helmet under her arm, Mistress pinches her face with the other hand. After a groan, she stares back at him. "No... no. I- we both need to know. _You_ prepare it.

Scruffy sighs. "... Do you trust me, to do it again?"

"I have to" Mistress says, after a moment. "And you need to trust yourself, again."

He gives a weary grunt. "... That's the catch, isn't it? I'm not sure."

"Hurry up, you two!" Braids bellows, with a belch somehow in between words. _A bellowch?_

"So I just drink it?" I hear Junior ask. "That's all?"

"That, and the chance of it killing you" Nail answers. "You'll wake up feeling like it did, anyway."

 _Well, **if** you wake up. Otherwise, you'll wake up dead... wait, how does that expression even work?!_

"Ha! I was fine, myself. All it did was make me burp a little, and not even fall over" Braids announces, slapping his chest.

"So he likes to tell people, at least" Nail mutters under his breath, before Braids shoves a finger at him. _Nail's right, Braids totally fell over like everyone else. Smelt like he peed himself a little, too._

" _This_ guy, after the Landsmeet? He was shaking so hard from it, he collapsed, rolled across the entire hall and threw himself down a flight of stairs!"

Nail shakes his head, while Junior ponders the image. "... But the Landsmeet Hall doesn't _have_ stairs. Did they change that, after I left?"

" **No** " Nail answers, glaring at Braids' story.

"... And yet he found some stairs anyway! That's just how badly he took to it!" Braid growls, before shrugging in defeat. "I was gonna say _what about the wine cellar_ , but that place was too boring to have one. I was falling asleep, until him and the Boss had their fight, because there was no booze."

"Loghain's Joining was in the Warden Compound, anyway" Mistress points out, while Scruffy walks inside.

"That didn't have a cellar, either" Braids grumbles. "This place does... but that idiot Miner's explosions shattered most of the bottles!"

 _I'll thank you not to insult King Kaboom in my presence, drunkie. You could do with a week off the piss._ "When are we getting more booze here, boss?"

"We have to go to Amaranthine, in the morning. Grab yourself something – I want to check out the rumour about a Darkspawn nest someone found, before I go chasing these bandits hitting the trade road; so we might be not seeing any big shipments just yet. If the nest is there, we can get Dworkin to collapse it on their heads."

"True... I guess the sodding bastard might be useful after all."

 _King Kaboom is **very** useful, that's why they call him 'Working' Glav... Glob... Glabin something. He got real excited, telling Mistress about his work and he spoke too fast for me. Oh well – **I** don't need to know how it all works, just that it does. I guess I could find a way to light a fuse, if shit goes wrong and nobody else can do it. Leave some longer flint-stones around the place, so I can grab one in my mouth and strike the other end on a flagstone. Fire-snake eats the wick, and burrows into the barrel of powder – **kaboom** , courtesy of Maxwell. Explode those fucking Darkspawn into 145 different pieces. Even that necromancer creep at Ostagar wouldn't be able to stitch them back into a working zombie after that! Much less a walking zombie. Stupid bone monsters... I hate Red Cliff._

I glance up, to notice Nail and Braids must have gone inside as well. "... This might take a little while" Mistress says, awkwardly shifting about. "Do you want to write down anything, before? For Delilah, I mean."

Junior shakes his head. "I told her I was most likely going to try enlisting... she told me a few things I probably needed to hear."

"Did she tell you about Thomas?" Mistress asks.

"... A little. Is it true you found him?" When Mistress doesn't answer, he gestures for her to continue. "I'd like to know now – if this Joining doesn't work, I'd still like to have known everything."

"Right. As you wish" Mistress exhales. "We found him in the Brecilian, yes. Your father's men had found him, first... the Darkspawn burnt down the old Kendalls estate, and any plans your father might have left written down. So I don't know what Thomas found out, that made him want to run. Maybe it was about Anora, maybe Rendorn had even worse things he _wanted_ to set in motion Whatever it was, he wanted it kept secret. To the point it meant sending people **hunting** after Thomas..."

"I saw Thomas... two years back, he visited me in the Free Marches. Said he wanted to see me, but spent most of his visit in the Starkhaven taverns. He seemed to be becoming a drunk, and a mean one" Junior responds, slowly. "Vaughan's influence, Delilah thinks. But I think you're right – if something spooked Thomas out of that, into action... well, our father may have thought it justified, but he was the _only_ one."

"For what it's worth" Mistress sighs, "I offered him a chance to stand down, and just release Anora to me. I knew he wouldn't – I don't know... what if he _had_ produced papers saying Father was involved in something? Cailan... well, Eamon was pushing Cailan towards a _mistake_ concerning Orlais. Father was the main ambassador, he easily could have gotten caught up in it."

"... No. My father would have done it all in public, to make sure everyone knew _he_ found it out, if he had anything worth uncovering. He certainly wouldn't have butchered your nephew, if he were in his right mind."

She nods, looking exhausted. "I know all that... I guess I just wanted there to be a **reason** for all the madness. Even with what it might have meant, about my father. But both our families burned, in the end, and for _what_?"

"His obsession with what he **deserved** " Junior frowns. "A name that everyone remembered... well, it'll be an Age before they forget what he did. _Congratulations_ , Father" he mutters, bitterly.

Mistress gives his shoulder a cautious pat, before sitting down. After a moment, he joins her on the bench. "What was he like? Fergus' son?"

That makes her smile, a little. "Tiring, honestly. 'Auntie, tell me about the griffons. And the dragons.' He quickly turned me into a bad aunt, especially in Oriana's eyes. 'Auntie, can we go riding? Can you show me how a crossbow works? Can I hold your sword?' _The two of you will give me wrinkles! w_ as her favourite reaction. If he managed to get Fergus involved, it was just icy silence. She'd guilt trip Fergus into apologising, which would make me feel guilty in turn... Antivans, you know? They don't like it when you mess with their children."

Junior gives a low chuckle. "And Couslands. He sounds exactly like how _you_ were, when I was sent away. The number of times Eleanor berated Fergus and I, for letting you slip away to chase animals or something... well, she finally had the **three** of us spanked, one day."

"... Was that about the tree? I've got a scar that never faded, from falling out" Mistress notes, pointing to her upper arm. "And I still sometimes feel the whacks I got _that_ day."

"I don't remember a tree. Unless that happened twice? But you spent the morning jeering us, until we let you join our sparring. Naturally, all of our parents arrived just as I caught you in the lip with a shield."

She snorts. "As if that ever happened."

"It did" he answers, smugly. "You were probably six, maybe five, at the time. Perhaps you forgot."

"Or the hit was too weak to bother remembering – you'd never catch me, now" Mistress boasts.

"True, I'd hardly be a match for someone who killed an Archdemon. Archery turned out to be my strength, so I'll stick with that" he shrugs. _Good thing, too. We needed a new Archer, while Chirpy's gone. We might even keep you, if you're any good._

"Loghain seemed moderately satisfied with your shooting... which is equal to glorious praise from other people" Mistress declares. "Hoorah for you."

"Hmm" he murmurs. "I didn't bother bringing any of my tournament prizes, but I suppose an aloof grunt from **him** is a worthy replacement."

"'General Mac Tir thinks I'm _not_ a waste of his time'. That would have made any tavern in Ferelden buy your drinks all night... well-"

"Until a year ago?" Junior adds.

"... Yeah." Something clicks, behind her eyes. "Wait. Okay, I remember what happened with the tree. That _wasn't_ you. We were hosting the Eremons, shortly after Irminric decided he would join the Order. Somehow, he and I got into a playful argument over what kind of Templar he'd be... so I wound up pretending to be a runaway Mage, and he had to track me to wherever I hid myself on our grounds." _So, you just wanted an excuse to play Hide And Seek?_ "For some reason, I climbed into a tree." _Makes sense. Apart from Rumble, most people don't look for enemies in trees. Especially Templars – their helmets already have crappy field of vision, with the narrow eyeslits._

"One thing led to another, and I either fell or he accidentally pulled me off the branch. I got a scar, and Mother had one of the guards punish everyone except Alfstanna. 'But I'm a Templar!' _Not yet, you're not_ was all Mother remarked, before he gave up and accepted a couple of whacks." Mistress grins, briefly, before stopping herself. "I still need to write 'Stanna, about how his recovery is going lately... are you ready to go in?" she asks.

He looks west, at the setting sun. "Can we do it on the battlements? I always liked the view, this time of day. If something happens..."

Mistress pulls herself up, and gives the battlement a glance. "Sure. Just stand near the wall, so you don't go over the side." _And down a flight of stairs, like Nail._ She offers a hand, for him to get up. "Well, then. _Nathan Howe, from this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden_."

"... I meant to ask, why do you keep saying that?"

"What?" Mistress asks, confused.

"It's Nathaniel. Not Nathan."

She scratches her head briefly. "... Huh. I only remember everyone calling you 'Nate'. I don't think anyone ever said your whole name? Not to me, at least."

He just gives her a indecipherable look, before glancing down at me. _Don't look at me, man. I only knew Toad-Face had some mystery third kid who left before I was born. I don't have answers._

Mistress seems trying to find something else to say, when the door creaks open. "You coming or what?" Braids shouts. "It looks like he's almost ready!"

* * *

 _I guess that went well, then. Toad-Face Junior lived, so he's a Warden now. And... I don't know. Tadpole? He seems alright, so I should stop associating him with Toad-Face. Tadpole is dumb, though; I'll try to come up with something else._ I listen to everyone eating. _He's definitely a Warden, the way he's bolting his food. Or he hasn't had a proper feed in a while? He was stuck in a cell, during an invasion, so that would make sense._

"Hello?" _Oh hey, it's the mail soldier! It's a bit late to be bringing Mistress letters, isn't it?_ "... Commander?"

Mistress looks up, hearing her the second time. "Private? Come in." She wipes her mouth. "Is something the matter?"

"I'm... not sure. There's an angry woman outside, demanding to be let in. She's shouting about 'him!' and I think I heard something about a baby? She even kicked a sentry in the shins already."

Mistress frowns, before turning to Tadpole. "You _did_ tell Delilah, right?" He nods, unconcerned, before going back to his food. She moves her gaze onto Scruffy. "I assume it's Goldanna, then. This answers your question from the other week, at least."

Scruffy stops eating, and ponders it for a moment. "I should go out there, then. Right?"

"... Finish eating" Mistress offers. "I'll see if I can get her to stop kicking people first." _I'll keep eating, too. You didn't say that order_ _ **didn't**_ _apply to me._ "I'll be back in a bit. Hopefully with my shins."

"Heh! Got someone up the duff, did ya?" Braids smirks, after Mistress is gone. "Good for you, kid. Anyone we know?"

"Alistair's sort-of sister? I'm not even **sure** what the deal is with that, after what you said" Scruffy says to Nail, still uneasy.

Tadpole glances about, like he's trying to make sense of everything. _You and me both, brother._ Braids keep leering, and Nail gives Scruffy a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Congratulations, regardless." We all keep eating, for a minute or two, before the door creaks open again. They don't react, until Mistress' furious stomping begins to echo down the corridor. _Slow down, Mistress. Your poor shins might not take the strain!_ "Huh... Goldie _must_ be angry" Scruffy mutters, about to stand when Mistress appears around the corner.

" **Oghren!** " she hisses, marching towards Braids. She grabs him by the beard, and yanks him to his feet.

"OWW! Fuck, woman! What's-" he cuts himself short, seeing the look in her eyes.

" **Felsi** would like to see you... and then, you and I are going to have _several_ conversations!"

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _ **I forgot when Felsi**_ **actually** _ **turns up, in Awakening, but this seemed as good a time as any. The Nate's name thing is kinda dumb, but I actually had that happen to me: I knew a Lynn for almost seven years, and it wasn't until her wedding reception I found out it was 'Lin, short for Linda'. NOBODY ever used her full name.. I felt especially dumb, since I'd already written Lynn on the congratulation card I gave them.**_

 _ **As always, thanks to everyone reading/following/reviewing. Especially Melysande. Property of BioWare and so forth.**_


	16. Howe do you like the gift?

**A shout-out to Ollie, the true hero of the Alienage (in absence of a Tabris Warden).**

* * *

 _Huh?_ I glance about, half-awake. _Okay, I know something woke me up... but it can't have been someone banging on the door. It's wide open, so- it's **wide** open. Did Mistress go walking? Without me?! _Bed's empty. _I guess she did. It feels early, so she won't have gone far. I better go investigate._

I follow the hallway, guided by her trademark odours. _Can barely smell the fire-places, now. So it's the dead stretch before dawn, where the night servants don't bother stoking them._ I get into the main hall. _Ah, there she is._ Sitting on the steps in front of the throne in her robe, her hand rubbing the head of a carved Mabari. _Mistress... you know that's not me, I hope._ I slide under her other arm, as best I can when her elbow's perched up on a knee. _See? I may have a high barking ratio, but that doesn't mean I'm made of wood._

"I thought I left you sleeping" she finally comments, adjusting to let me squeeze up alongside her.

 _Yeah, but if you're awake then I'm awake. What's going on?_

She looks at her hand, closed around something. "Max? If I had kept my dagger, and slit Duncan's throat one night on the way to Ostagar; to run away... taken a boat to Minrathous, maybe. You would have followed me, right?"

 _Without hesitation. Hell, I would have sat on the prick to hold him still if you had just asked._

She rubs the back of my neck, after I lick her hand. "And everyone would be dead. Fergus, Leliana, Daylen, Anora, Sandal, Bodahn, Delilah, Sten, the Drydens, Wynne, Teagan."

 _Yeah, probably. But **you'd** be safe, up north, and not sitting on a cold floor in a dark room at some stupid hour. No – you'd be doing exactly this, over breaking Grandpa's oath even though Liar broke it first anyway, and people you didn't try to save. If it came down to the country, or you, I pick you every time. But I know you wouldn't, which still leaves us sitting here right now. Even if we were some other 'here'. _"... Alistair and Morrigan." _Fuck **him**!_

She lifelessly chuckles at my reaction. "If only it were that easy... he has no trouble hating _me_ , after all. He made that perfectly clear in Kirkwall. And she tipped the board over, once I wasn't a worthwhile pawn."

 _Upon which you rolled yourself face-up and leapt back to your feet, to punch the Archdemon right in his fat stupid face! Those two betrayed us over their whiny selfish bullshit, yes, but did you forget? You didn't walk alone without them. There wasn't a man, woman or Mabari in Ferelden not standing with you and I, on the last day. Even the broken and beaten, like Arl Wolf and our buddy Ollie from the Alienage? Remember **that** guy? The street mutts told me he was out in the city, even before word spread that you had killed the Archdemon, helping bucket crews put out fires. _

I wriggle about, so I can look her in the eye. _So don't you ever forget, Mistress... **hey!** Don't bite your fingernail, Grandma hated when you do that._

"What are you doing?" _She's falling back into stupid habits, so I'm trying to... wait, what_ _ **are**_ _you doing, Tadpole?!_

She looks over, at the other doorway he must have used, with a slight twitch. "... Pondering. Pondering whether my father ever woke up in the dark, suddenly doubting everything he did the day before."

"Your talk with the Dwarf didn't go well, then?" he asks, looming closer in the weak light.

"It didn't go at all... I was ready to tear into him, until I shut the door behind us. I was so angry – but something in me was calm enough to know the conversation couldn't end well. So I told him to get out of my sight. I had about as much luck _sleeping_ , so here I am." She holds her finger up, checking where'd she nibbled. "You?"

"I suppose I slept enough, this afternoon. Or it's this roof; sleeping under it doesn't feel like it used to. While I was debating about staying in my bunk, something occurred to me." He motions down the hall. _It's dark, moron! We can't see down that end._

I move, allowing Mistress room to get up. She grabs the throne to pull herself up, while her far hand slides to a pocket. "Ah. If you mean your mother, I noticed that painting when I arrived."

"I know my father never would have left it around, so the Wardens must have put that up? That just makes it even stranger..." I trail along behind, as they walk. "It was only ever dragged out when our grandmother came to visit."

"... The one person your father feared, as I remember. I only met her once, when I arrived a day early for Delilah's birthday one year. She even had me line up for inspection, with Delilah and Thomas" Mistress muses. "She didn't berate me, so I think she approved. It was still a little terrifying."

"Yes, that certainly sounds like her... believe it or not, that's how my better memories of family gatherings go." Tadpole glances at the painting, holding a torch out. "Still, someone should take it down. It's starting to stare at me."

Mistress nods. "Varel told me the remaining servants handled the decor, before the Wardens arrived. I asked around, who picked the painting – eventually one of the gardeners raised his hand. Said your mother always treated him well, so he didn't want her portrait being thrown on a junk-pile."

"Gardener?"

Mistress shrugs. "Well, I expect he's more of a supervisor now, since he seems quite older than the other Elves. He said his name was Sam." _No, Sam's the useless guy who ran off instead of opening us fight, back in the opening cut-scene. That's what I call him, at least._

Tadpole turns back to Mistress, surprised. "Samuel's still here? … I should speak to him, in the morning." _It_ _ **is**_ _morning. Technically._

"Same, actually" Mistress says, absently. "I salvaged a couple of apples, from a good tree on the Turnoble farms. Hopefully the seeds are still plantable; so we can grow a new one here." She looks off to the right, and taps his shoulder. "While we're both awake, I had something for you."

We walk over to the chest, near the door. _This really needs to go somewhere more secure, if Mistress is going to dump everything she finds in it. But then she'd complain it's too far to walk, and leave everything on the floor._

Tadpole watches, while she fiddles with the lock. "What's this?"

"My chest of wonder" she mumbles. ' _Chest of wonder whose it was', more like._ "I've been keeping my oddities in here – wish I had one during the Blight. You wouldn't believe the things we found."

"Like the broken sword, hanging up by the throne? That did seem peculiar" Tadpole nods.

"Not the sword" she comments, finally getting the chest open. "That found us. Literally – a shooting star crashed near our camp, and a friend of ours managed to smelt that sword out of the ore it left."

"Uh... huh" Tadpole drawls. "Was that before or after you found Andraste's Tomb?"

"I gave it to him before, he finished after? Found some neat stuff in Her tomb, as well. I think I still have Yusaris somewhere. Some weird demon in the Mage Circle had _that_..."

"Yusaris?" _Oh, not this stupid joke again. Yes, Mistress saw us. She sees everything – and whacks me when she sees me eat something weird I found under a hedge._ "Huh. Kill any **werewolves** with it?" _I think he's trying to be a smart-arse. Don't answer._

"I wish... I would have brought Sten with me, since he was using it in lieu of his blade, if I had known we were going to get attacked by a werewolf pack in the Brecilian. Don't even _ask_ about that mess" she suggests, digging through her stuff. "How did it get _underneath_ Havard's shield? That was the first thing I found." _Better question; how did you even fit this much crap in one chest?_ "Ah. I found this longbow, while we were clearing out the tunnels and retrieving the blood for your Joining. Has the Bear on it..." She holds out a longbow, which he carefully takes. _**See**_ _? There's no way a longbow should have fit inside. I don't care what angle you had it at!_

"Is this... yes, that's definitely the Howe crest, burnt into the wood." _Oh, so the Bear_ _ **was**_ _you guys. Mistress thought it might have just been Amaranthine. I suppose it is theirs by default, now; since you can't have a family crest without a family, and you... well, maybe I shouldn't go there._ "My grandfather's bow! He was the last one to use it, at least."

"The same one who was a Grey Warden? Padric?" Mistress asks. _Wait, back up! I thought his grandfather was the shrivelled old bastard who collaborated with the Orlesians during the War? Templeton Howe, or whatever. But Aldous said that pigfucker was only Arl of Harper's Ford, before Grandpa hung him from the nearest tree, and some guy called Byron ran Amaranthine. Which was still in the Howe name for Ages, so Byron must have been one... and the bow has the Bear on it, so this Padric can't be a grandfather on the maternal side. Just how many fucking grandparents does he have?! Tadpole, you've got a damned confusing family tree. Or you_ _ **did**_ _, but thankfully... well, maybe I still shouldn't go there._

"Thank you" Tadpole tells Mistress. "It's good to have part of my family legacy back, a part I can be _proud_ of anyway." _Maybe_ _ **you**_ _shouldn't go there._ "Now that I know about the Joining, I think he must have died. He never contacted anyone after he left." _Huh... so does that mean the Wardens brought the Bow back here with them? It looks well made, so you'd think he took it with him instead of leaving it with fucking Toadface._

Mistress pales a little. "Perhaps... many good men, and _women,_ don't survive."

"I know that now" he replies, not noticing how she reacted. _Guess he doesn't know about Ree._ "Father always said he was a horrible man." _Your father should take a break from being worm-food, and look in the mirror. Oh wait, he_ _ **can't!**_ _That's right, I finally went there. I don't give a fuck._ "Abandoning his family to fight for a pointless cause, or so Father told me. I grew up ashamed of him, but now I know better... one more thing to get used to. I might go back to my room, now I've something to think about."

"Alright" Mistress replies. "Just don't fall asleep, if you can. I think I'll wake everyone early, to get on the road to Amaranthine. I still need to find those hunters." As he leaves, she motions to the front door with her head. _Are we going outside?_ Apparently so, because she's shoving the door open. _Ah, no wonder. It's almost dawn, and Mistress does love the occasional sunrise._ She drops herself down, near the top of the stairs, and I kneel down beside her. She groans for no real reason, and rubs my head.

"How did I get here?"

 _I ask myself that every day. And it's always the same old answer: I followed you here. Because I love you, and I know you'll always make things right in the end._

We turn eastward, as light breaks over the tree line. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her dig that thing out of her pocket again. She absently fiddles with it, long enough to get a decent look. _Oh, it's just some kind of flask. Who cares?_

* * *

 **Max is a grumpy early riser, but aren't we all? Especially when trying to figure out the "Nate's grandfather" thing.**

 **Thanks to everyone reading/following, Melysande for her thoughts.**


	17. Keeper of the Flame

**Wherein Max does not make a particularly strong argument for being allowed access to a tinderbox.**

* * *

 _Calm down, idiot - Mistress and Tadpole just need to talk to that gardener guy, and then we'll leave._

Ignoring my sagely warning, Braids squirms again and makes his armour squeak.

"She's not going to hurry up, even if you keep doing that" Scruffy mutters. _Annoying, ain't it?_

"... Wish she'd just hurry up and _yell_ at me" he answers. "I'm used to it – but she's being all quiet instead of getting angry."

"I thought that was how she got angry" Nail sighs. "I remember Eleanor being like that, during a few Landsmeets."

"The way I heard it, she used to punch the kid in his face when **he** ticked her off! I don't like these mind games." _Just ask her to smack you in the throat, if it's that important... I suppose I could bite you, if it helps?_

Scruffy shrugs. "From what Leliana told me, that only happened once. But apparently she pulled a sword on Wynne, early on." He ponders that for a moment, before adding "Who probably provoked it, knowing Wynne."

"I don't doubt **that** " Nail agrees.

 _If it's any consolation, Braids, rest assured... she's plenty pissed off at you. It's just that she's too angry to **get** angry, if that makes sense._

"Maybe if I buy her something, in the city... not really sure what would make her calm down" Braids groans.

"I don't think that would work" Scruffy notes.

 _Nice defeatist talk, Scrufferson. Laziness like that is why you ungrateful jerks never gave Mistress anything during the Blight, even though she was handing out jewellery and toys and books and flowers and booze and paintings and shoes... even fucking gemstones! What did she get in return? Whining, lectures, whining lectures, that creepy song about dead elves, and I think Qunie shared a couple of cookies with her once. Except me, naturally; **I** do bring Mistress stuff, because she's awesome and I love her. New plan, everyone. Forget whatever stupid crap you were going to buy in Amaranthine, and get Mistress something nice instead! You selfish idiots needs to reciprocate. _

_The calendar turned to Guardian a few days back, after all; which doesn't just mean Scruffy can ambush bathe me again. Mistress' birthday is only two months away now, so you all **better** get to shopping soon!_

 _Even you, Tadpole... wait, if you came back, where's Mistress?_

"She just wanted to speak with the soldiers" he announces, joining us. _Gossiping with the gardeners and troops – she's getting the Arlessa stuff out of the way before we leave. Good thinking._

Sure enough, she appears around the side of the barracks. With two knights following her. _Who are these guys? … Can I call them Barry and Darry?_

As they reach us, she gestures to the one on her left. "Everyone, this is Ser Darius" _Nailed it!_ "and Ser Harold" _**Harry**_ _. I was close. Fine, Harry and Darry it is._

Nail nods at Harry in recognition. "I believe you helped us, with Blight purges in the south."

"Yes, General" he almost salutes, catching himself. " _Warden_. Sorry."

"They both did" Mistress says, motioning Darry forward as well. "Considering that experience, they'll be leading the troops. Daylen, I want you to take them out to the Turnoble farms for a controlled burn and sweep. You know what to do."

"Easy enough" Scruffy smiles. "I think I do remember you two, now. We met during the Lothering sweep?"

"Yes, Warden" they both confirm.

Mistress frowns for a moment. "And take Oghren with you. We'll make a quick run to Amaranthine, and find these hunters. I should see the state of the city, as well."

Braids is about to complain, when Scruffy subtly nudges him with an elbow "As you say. We'll meet you back here" Scruffy says, slapping his chest. _Your salutes still need work, but you're getting there. And_ _ **you**_ _, best not to open your fat gob today, Braids._ As we're walking away, he opens it regardless. I don't think Mistress can hear him, but he still needs to shut up.

"-into Lady Backstab's city, with _those_ two? I kinda trust the old man now, but we still don't know anything about Scumbag's gloomy kid."

"You think you can change her mind, go for it" Scruffy answers, as they wander off towards the soldiers.

 _Yeah, whatever. Have fun burning the farm... I wish I could burn stuff! Ruined farms, bandit dens, Darkspawn tunnels, thick overgrowth, abandoned chicken coops_ , _nug holes, cats, I'd burn them all! But **no** , it's like people don't trust Mabari with fire. Which is incredibly insulting – if anyone can't be trusted to burn what needs burning, it's you stupid humans! _I sit back, aghast at the nature of injustice in modern Thedas.

"Max?"

 _Wicker man, wicker man... from the beacon hill, cast your fire on this land_

 _Wicker man, wicker man... from the beacon hill, throw your ashes in our hands_

"Come on, idiot!" Mistress calls, interrupting my litany. "We need to get to Amaranthine." _Oh, right. We're going birthday shopping... and some shit about hunters or something, but that's not real important._

* * *

… _Were these arseholes the hunters? Stupid freaks came out of nowhere, in their stupid weird clothes, and just attacked us. I thought everyone would know who Mistress and I are, after we ended the fucking Blight, but we still get these random encounters with idiots thinking they stand a chance. I mean, even if they somehow don't know us, Nail was a General for 50 years or whatever and drove out the Orlesians. Or just **look** at us: do we really look like people you want to try to rob?!_

"Are these Avvars?" Tadpole asks, tipping out one of the corpses' quivers into his own. _You fucking cheapskate, buy your own arrows._

"They _were_ " Nail says, wiping his sword. "Damned if I know what they're doing this far north."

"They probably fled the Blight, and never returned home. Last I heard, Fergus' Chasind tribe are still camped in the southern Bannorn since the Wilds aren't safe yet. Maybe these Avvar lived in the mountains near Wulff's land."

"West Hills? What makes you say that?" Tadpole asks, checking the other bodies.

"The Darkspawn overran his Arling" Mistress sighs. "Because I was wasting time in Orzammar."

"You were assembling an army" Nail interjects. " _Someone_ had to, while we were all squabbling."

She doesn't reply, walking to the tree-line to inspect the bodies these idiots apparently killed before we arrived. Tadpole gives her a brief glance, before leaning over to Nail. "Saving the world in 8 months wasn't good enough?" he whispers. "... She really is a Cousland, isn't she?"

 _Why thank you._

"Indeed" Nail murmurs. "Especially since she refuses to just blame _me_ instead. But she's not wrong, either; she probably could have ended the Blight in four months, if not for your father and I."

"... So it's true, what the Dwarf said about him."

Nail scowls. "He makes it up as he goes along – when we have time, I'll tell you what your father _actually_ did. If you want to know." _The thing about him having a bedroom opposite the dungeons was true, at least. You should ask_ _ **Scruffy**_ _, he was there when we rescued Gnawer and gutted your piece of shit father; unlike Nail or Braids. But Nail can tell you all the schemey excuses and plans Toadface had, which I guess is important context?_

Tadpole glances at me, then back to Mistress. "Soon. I know what Delilah and Samuel told me, but they weren't in Denerim. And _she_ keeps taking great care **not** to broach the matter."

Nail nods, going quiet when Mistress stands up. "Another Templar" she announces. "There was one at the Turnoble farm, too... they must be hunting someone." She unfolds a scroll, and takes a look. "Or not."

"Or not?" Nail repeats.

"This is wildly out of date" she declares, handing it to him as she returns.

" _The following apostates_ " Nail mutters as he reads. " _Anders_. You only handed the twin over a few days ago, it's not that out of date."

"He did _not_ look like..." she groans, and pokes a finger at the scroll. _He totally did. I'm with Nail on this._ "Fifth name down."

"Gimble, Bastiaan" _Ugh. They didn't even list them in alphabetical orders. How lazy._ "Bari Sawl" _Oh, that's where Barry got to. If we find him first, let's recruit him. Then we'll have the full set, once he's back with Darry and Harry._ "... Jowan."

 _Huh. That name sounds familiar, for some reason. Was that the guy who sold us Rumble's magic stick?_

"Who?" Tadpole asks, when neither Mistress or Nail say anything.

"It's another thing I'll tell you about" Nail offers, rolling the scroll up. "Later."

Mistress accepts it back, and stuffs it in her pack. "It didn't list the Templar's name, but I'll tell the Chantry where to find him. They should recognise him, when they retrieve the body."

We return to the trail, and head further into the woods. _And to think, if we hadn't taken this short-cut and stayed on the main road, it's possible nobody would ever know what happened to this Templar guy. We certainly wouldn't have known Barry was an apostate. That would have been embarrassing, if Mistress asked the Templars for help, and they'd be all 'Shit no! Not until you hand over Barry Saul!' I tell ya, it's..._ _ **OH!**_ _The creep from Red Cliff! Now I remember Jowan. Yeah, that scroll is plenty old! When he said 'Anders', I thought that it might be a fresh note and he just escaped again, for the 17_ _th_ _time or whatever. I warned that Templar woman to slap him in iron chains, so he couldn't use his Changeling curses to get away... but nobody ever listens to the Mabari._

 _Whatever. It's not like we'll ever see that idiot again._

* * *

 **Max is right - it's like the companions don't care about _your_ approval meter at all, the way they never give you anything in return. (That'd be a weird mechanic, NPCs farming reputation points with players.)**

 **Dragon Age belongs to BioWare, the quoted lyrics likewise to Bruce Dickinson. Thanks to everyone who's ever read/followed/reviewed these unhinged ramblings of mine.**


	18. The Fiends of Amaranthine

_Well, this city looks shit. Bann Esmeralda clearly isn't doing her job._

"There's even more people than a few days ago" Tadpole comments.

"Just like Lothering" Mistress adds, mostly to herself. "We definitely need soldiers in the field, not the city, if this many people are being driven off their land."

 _I guess it really is like Low Vering. Especially the way nobody's paying attention – just like how that stupid Templar didn't notice Morrie was clearly a Mage when we walked through town._

"Ah! Warden-Commander! The stories about you did _not_ exaggerate." _Or the first guy we pass will recognise her. Must be the giant Griffon printed on her tabard._ "Come see me, over there – I've a business proposal for you." _Make a fucking appointment at Vigil's Keep, idiot. Madam Goat handles the trade ventures._

"Smuggler" Nail remarks.

"Yes" Mistress concurs, before continuing toward the gate.

"They used to display the heads of traitors, over that gate" Tadpole points, as we walk. _Well, that came out of nowhere._ "I suppose my father is lucky his didn't end up there." _The hell? We're not_ _ **savages**_ _! Mistress merely disembowelled him, before I ripped up out his throat to shut him up and then pissed on him as he died. A trophy kill would be barbaric._

A drunk smelling ugly guy wanders up. "Looking for some company, honey-pie?" _Brother, stop right there._ "I'm always game for riveting conversations with fine women. What do they call you, back home?" _Oh boy..._

Mistress turns to glare at him. "Amanda Cousland, _Arlessa_ of Amaranthine and Warden-Commander" she answers, dripping with annoyance as she gestures at the Griffon on her tabard. _Don't do that, he's just gonna stare at your chest. Despite the armour._

"That's a mouthful, innit? Folks just call me Colbert." _Figures_ _ **this**_ _would be the guy.._

"The Colbert who found the Darkspawn?" she groans.

"Here to investigate the chasm, are you?" _I swear to Dane, if he makes some 'I'd like to investigate_ _ **your**_ _chasm' remark..._ "It's about time. I can't take all the credit for finding it,you know. Micah here fell in first" he smirks, pointing to an Elf who comes walking up. 'Micah' just gives an unamused grunt in response.

"Tell me what happened" Mistress suggests, more softly, as she turns to face Micah.

Naturally, Colbert cuts him off. "Well, it's quite a ways out of town. We were tracking a buck.. before this Darkspawn mess. We'd been on his trail for a week, at that point." _Sorry, what? I get that you're an idiot and all, but it takes you a week to hunt something?! How have you not starved to death?_ "I bet he thought it was great fun, leading us all about." _Or he was like 'holy shit, what does it take to make these idiots leave me alone?'_

"I'm not interested in venison" Mistress prompts, impatiently. _I'm interested_ _, but let's stay focused. We can visit the butcher later._

"Right, the chasm! We saw it, coming over a rise. It was really **something**! A huge cleft, as if the Maker Himself cracked the ground in two like... well, like an egg!"

"I like eggs" Micah adds, pointlessly. _Say, Micah... are you related to Ollie, by any chance?_

Even Colbert ignores him, continuing. "It looked like someone once tried to build over the gap, a very long time ago. I've asked about, but nobody in town knew about it." _Wait... building, over a Darkspawn hole. Architect. Hrmm. I wonder._ "We tried to get closer, of course. That's when Micah fell in, shrieking."

"Earth crumbled. Not stable."

"Right, whatever. And as he lay there, complaining about his knee, or head, what have you" _Wow. You're an arsehole_ "The Darkspawn appeared."

"They didn't attack you? Must have been a small group" Nail asks, over Mistress' shoulder.

"More than a brood, less than a horde." _What the fuck does that even mean?_ "They seemed _occupied_? Like they had somewhere more important to be, and then they left. Didn't notice us, thank The Maker."

He and Mistress compare maps, as he shows a mark on his. "Right, thank you" she concludes, handing over some coins.

He does a quick count. "Oh... falling into Darkspawn pits is profitable, huh?" _Shit, you're stupid... I mean,_ _ **yes!**_ _I'll give you some more money if you go throw yourself down a ravine. The deeper the better. This time, Micah can watch and laugh instead._

"Back to the Keep, then?" Nail asks, as we walk back to the path.

"Not yet" Mistress answers, turning towards the city. "We need to find Kristoff, and Wynne if she's still here." _You know, I completely forgot about finding Bread-Man. Alright, let's go bring his stupid butt in for absconding from service. Probably drunk in the tavern._

The gate guard motions for us to halt. "I need to search your pack, for smuggled goods." _I don't like your tone, accusing Mistress of things. I don't much care for your face, either._ Mistress just nods, and hands it over.

"What are you doing?!" someone bellows. _I know, right? Do we even know he's a real guard?_ "You just accused the Warden-Commander of smuggling!" _Hey, it's not like we_ _ **didn't**_ _do some light smuggling during the Bli... I mean, thank you Ser. Nothing at all, in our luggage._

"But you said everyone-" the first guard mumbles.

"You're dismissed." Once he leaves, this guy turns to us. "My apologies. Thieves and smugglers have all but taken over." _Aha! I knew that Esme woman was no good. I bet she's taking a cut from their profits. People with 'Me' in their name are always greedy. That's science, you know._

I think he said some other stuff, but I wasn't listening. Colbert got me thinking about venison, and I can smell the marketplace. _Wait, why are we going the wrong way?! Food is down_ _ **there**_ _!_

We climb some stairs, and Mistress pulls out a note from her pack. She glances at a sign, and back at the note before putting it away. "There's the tavern. Loghain, Nate, go in and find Kristoff. Or where he might be now. I'll check in with the Chantry, about that Templar, and come to the tavern when I'm done. I expect the two of you can find something to talk about, while you wait?"

Nail makes a slight grunt, and nods. "Naturally." _What, did you think she couldn't hear you earlier? Give her some credit._

I follow Mistress up another stairway. _Of course the Chant Tree is the massive building. I wonder how much 'tithing' they wasted on this, instead of the poor hungry bastards out by the gate?_

Mistress waves down the nearest Templar. "Pardon me, Ser. I wish to speak to your attending superior."

They nod their bucketed head, and seem to glance at the Griffon tabard, before disappearing inside. Seemed like they sped up a little, going inside. _I guess Furgus was right; the Griffon does let people know who they're dealing with. Unless you're Colbert, and don't know your elbow from your arse._

Mistress takes a seat on a bench, and removes her helmet. "I guess it's good Nate didn't come. They've taken down Byron's old statue." _Yeah, and put up one of Whatshername. Because the Fussy Women love wasting money._ "It makes sense" she muses, still talking to herself. "They say this is where Andraste first spoke the Chant. Still, though..." _Wait, really? Huh – okay, fair enough. I get why this place is bigger than all the other Chant Trees, now you tell me._

We sit in silence for a moment, before I get the feeling we're being watched. _Where did all those idiots come from?!_ Mistress glances over as well, at the various gawking Fussy Women and Templars.

"... Not again" she murmurs. _Yep. It's your adoring masses._

"It _is_ the Hero!" one stammers. _I'm here as well, you stupid jerk. Why is nobody ever 'oh, it's that handsome devil who saved us all - Lord Maxwell! I shall name my children after you!'_

"Hello again, Max" someone says, pushing their way through the throng. _Finally, some res.. oh. It's_ _ **you**_ _. Hey Biddy, how have you been, I guess?_ I suppose I shouldn't be so churlish, when she did acknowledge me first. I get up, and give her hand a lick as she sits besides Mistress. "And you, my dear. I see you still draw an audience."

"Keeping my helmet on doesn't work" Mistress shrugs, wearily.

Biddy smiles, and points at the Griffon on her tabard. "No, I can't imagine _how_ they can tell. If you're looking for the Grand Cleric, she and the local Templar captain rode for Denerim. I believe" she nods at an approaching woman, "Ser Rylien currently has command."

"Warden-Commander! … I half thought it was another prank. With most of the senior Templars away, discipline has waned somewhat."

Mistress stands, and returns her salute. "Understandable. I simply wished to let someone in the Order know." She digs out that apostate list we found, and hands it over. "We were coming overland, and were attacked by Avvar. They're dealt with, but we found a Templar among their earlier victims. That list was all he had on him. It was about an hour's travel, in a clearing on the south side of Feravel River."

" _Gimble_... hmm. This is definitely old" Riley or whatever comments. "You have my thanks... might I ask you for some more assistance?"

 _I'd say no, but everyone else asks anyway. Out with it, then._

"Of course" Mistress allows. "I may not be able to handle it straight away, though."

Riley hands over some paper. _Oh, so finding and handing in the Templar's notes means we completed the first round of the Mage scavenger hunt. Next step is some apostates around the city, by the sound of it._

Mistress looks over them, for a moment. "... I think I saw **this** man already, in the square."

"They must know most of us are out of the city, to be wandering so blatantly" Riley gripes. "I'll make sure you're adequately rewarded."

"I'll settle for the statue that used to stand here, of Arl Byron. Delivered to Vigil's Keep once the roads are clear" Mistress answers.

"I... believe we still have that in storage. The Revered Mothers hadn't decided how to dispose of it."

 _Throw it in a bog. That's always good. Or down a well, that's how they dump bodies and stuff at the Denny Rem cathedral. And it's probably not worth your job to argue with the Fussy Woman-Commander's methods._

Mistress offers a smile. "Then I'll add these people to my list. The guard captain also needs several miscreants discouraged."

"Discouraged?" Riley says, unconvinced.

 _Yeah, discouraged from living. If that makes you uneasy, then leave it alone. 'Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies' kind of deal, you understand? Because we probably aren't going to bring them apostates back in one piece, either._

I guess she knows not to push the matter when Mistress doesn't elaborate, because Riley gives a salute and turns. Making the gawkers scatter and pretend to be busy. During the confusion, Mistress hands a sealed scroll to Biddy. "I understand you're travelling to a Convention, soon?"

"I might be" she replies, smugly.

 _Make sure to stop by the merchandise tables, then. Grab yourself some loot. Maybe an autograph._

Letting go of the scroll, Mistress nods. "This is for Grand Enchanter Fiona. Just her, not any jumped-up underlings who will toss it in the pile."

"... To do with this massacre business, then" Biddy concludes, slipping it into her sleeve.

"You might say that – _I_ didn't. Warden secrets, naturally" Mistress answers. "It's something she might have information concerning, from her former occupation."

"The plot thickens" Biddy smiles. "Hopefully her dedication to Warden secrecy has waned, since her departure from the Order." _So you **can** quit. Neat! Mistress, we should retire in a few years, maybe open a tavern._

"That's the plan, at least" Mistress sighs. "I need help from _somebody_... I don't suppose Shale's in town?"

"I'm afraid not; I sent her on ahead with the main delegation, because I got picked to wait for Ines." _Is that some weird religious thing?_ "But at least it makes her Cumberland's problem, for a reprieve; Shale's attitude seems to be getting worse, lately."

"... Ines the botantist?" Mistress asks. "I read some of her tomes."

"I prefer to call her a gardener. It makes her brow twitch. But she went off on another sojourn to hunt plants, in the Wending Woods. With all the recent trouble, nobody's been able to retrieve her."

"The Woods are on my list" Mistress remarks. "I could look around."

"We would appreciate that. For all her eccentricities,she'd be a voice of reason at the Convention."

Mistress stands, and helps Biddy up. "Right after I deal with these apostates and bandits around town... I don't suppose you care to help, for old times' sake?"

"I could do with some exercise, before my journey... who do you have with you? Oghren and Amell?" _His name is_ _ **Scruffy**_ _._

Mistress glances out over the city, before turning back to us. "No, I sent... you knew about Oghren?"

"He stopped here on his way to the Keep, and we ran into each other near the tavern. He told me over a drink that he wanted to enlist."

Mistress runs a hand through her hair. "I'm guessing he _didn't_ tell you Felsi is pregnant, then. I only found out when she showed up, yelling – and he had already Joined..."

Biddy frowns. "Of all the fu-" she starts, abandoning whatever she was about to say. _Biddy... were you finally going to **curse**?!_

"I sent those two off to handle a land burn, so I wouldn't have to look at him just yet" Mistress swallows. "I really don't know... but if you'd like to do this city sweep with us, grab your things. I still need to pray inside. Light some candles."

Biddy stops, and glances at her. "... Who?"

"Mhairi and Rowland didn't make it" Mistress murmurs. "I.. I need to-"

"Hush" Biddy says, pulling her into an embrace when Mistress starts to shake. "You go inside. I'll collect my things, and wait for whomever."

"... Loghain, and Nate. Kristoff as well, if they found him" Mistress says, as they pull apart.

"Nate, then. I doubt Loghain will be much conversation, but perhaps this Nate and I will find something to talk about."

 _Yeah... that's what worries me, once you notice who he is. Just try to stay focused on Esmerelita's merry band of Amaranthine fiends, between lecturing the group. Huh.. that's a tricky phrase to say. Amaranthine fiends. Amaranfiends? Yeah, that's easier._

* * *

 **Hoping to get a side-chapter up later this week - had an idea for something stupid.**


	19. Non-Chapter: The Stink-quistion

**As promised, another non-chapter. I noticed today makes four years of Max, so I decided to satisfy my "Max as Inquisitor?" insanity itch for the milestone!**

* * *

 _Huh... should these guards all be dead?_ I glance about the path, noticing footprints in the blood. _I know this **used** to be Murder-Town, but Mistress killed all the crazy people back then. I doubt Gnawer would have invited them as well, when she offered to let the Mages and Fussy Women have their peace summit here. I should probably go check this out, right? _I follow the blood trails up a side-track, towards the Temple. _If that smart-mouthed ghost guy is still here, he'll slow them down. I hope so, because I don't have time to go down the mountain and tell Chirpy. My legs are too slow and stiff to do that kind of climb in a hurry – face it, Max. You're getting old._

More dead guys. I push the door open. _Is that the Divine? … I didn't know she could hover like that! Dottie, you never told me you could do Magic._ She turns to look at me, along with the tall thing next to her. _What is wrong with your_ _ **face?!**_ Guy looks like his head fell off, and they replaced it with a misshapen walnut!

"We … have an intruder?" Walnut says, in confusion. _Don't point fingers at me, creepshow! You're the guy who murdered sentries to sneak backstage before Dottie's speech. Dane, you obsessive Canticle-thumpers are the worst. You can ask her to bless your face's recovery after the summit, okay? So let Dottie down and apologise!_

"Run while you can! Warn them!" Dottie yells. _Lady, you know I can't run at my age. Who is this prick, anyway?_

Walnut opens his mouth to say something, but Dottie smacks the glowy thing out of his hand. _Hey, a_ _ **ball**_ _!_ Walnut just wanted to play Fetch. _I got it! I got it! I-_

I look around the cellar, again. _This is where I snuck in, last night, to find some bacon. I think. Is that what they locked me in here for? Well pardon my butt, but I needed food and Chirpy was too busy to feed me. I know she promised Mistress she'd watch me while she and the others were out west, but couldn't I have stayed at her house in Val Royal? Then I could just eat one or two of her nugs if I got hungry, and... okay, I think I see her problem with that plan._

Speaking of Chirpy, I think I hear her coming down the corridor. _Okay guys, she's here to bail me out. You can let me go now._

"Cassandra, wait! The survivor isn't a man" I hear her tell someone.

"Then I'll beat the truth out of _her_!" another voice snarls. _Not what she meant, dear. You'll see soon enough._

The gate swings open, and a furious woman stomps in with Chirpy behind her. _You're Cassie, I presume?_ She finally notices me, and stops short. _Howdy._ "What is **this**?!"

 _It's a cellar._

"I was trying to tell you" Chirpy offers, when Cassie glares at her. "I guess he woke up a lot sooner than I expected." _I mustn't have been very tired. I don't even remember what I was doing, before I fell asleep._

"... Ugh" Cassie finally forces out, before marching back the way she came.

"So can I go now, or what?" She suddenly stops, and I feel Chirpy and the two guards stare at me. "... Did I say that out loud, just now?"

"... Yes, Max. You did" Chirpy hesitantly answers.

"Huh. Normally that only happens when I'm in the Fade. We're not all dreaming, right?" I ask. _Hmm. My mouth feels weird, now I'm using it._

"We are certainly not" Cassie replies, stepping back into the room with a hand on her sword.

"They _found_ you, falling out of a tear into the Fade" Chirpy adds.

"What, like in the Fade for real? Usually it's just crazy Mages or a demon shoving my mind in there. I guess if you do it five times, you're properly allowed in."

"Or it's because the Fade is tearing open, after the explosion" Chirpy muses. "Like you say, you've been in the Fade more than most non-Mages."

"Or he's _possessed!_ "

"Calm your tits, Cassie! If I were a demon, I'd have glowy eyes or something. And I'd be offering you stuff. Isn't that what they do?" I spot a puddle, from a leak in the ceiling, and wander over to look. "See! My eyes are just fine, so... wait. The fuck happened to my mouth?!" _**That's**_ _glowing, but I still don't feel possessed. More like I bit a bee, and it bit me back. I hate when they do that._

"What did _you_ _ **say**_ _to me_?" Cassie hisses, marches over.

"Okay, fine. Cas _sandra_. Happy now?"

"Max..." Chirpy groans, rubbing her brow.

The door opens, and a Dwarf sticks his head in. "I don't know what you're yelling about, Seeker, but you might want to come up top."

"You're meant to be with the guards, _Varric_!" Cassie snaps.

"Yeah, probably" he shrugs. "But they're busy with the Elf mage who just arrived. Says he's here to help, and might know what caused the explosion."

"Dalish or Circle?" Chirpy asks.

"... Neither, by the look of him?" the Dwarf guesses.

"Fine" Cassie grunts. " _This_ is going nowhere."

"Are you interrogating a Mabari?" he smirks.

"Lord Maxwell Cousland, Bann of Harper's Ford and heir to the Arling of Amaranthine" I introduce myself, walking up to sniff him.

"A Mabari that talks, as you can see" Cassie grunts. "Likely possessed." _Oh, don't be so sceptical! Especially when you're getting the reference all wrong – everyone is meant to doubt Cassandras, not the other way around._

"I've seen _weirder_ shit, honestly..." he says, staring at me. "Ser Varric Tethras, Merchant Prince of Kirkwall."

"Ah, well met! What brings you to Ferelden, messere?"

"The Seeker dragged me down here" he jokes, as we follow Cassie and Chirpy out of the cellars.

"I see. She does seem quite vulgar, like that. No respect for her betters."

He smirks at that. "She's a Nevarran princess, actually. Just ask her."

Cassie grunts in annoyance, at that, and shoves the big door open. "I _prefer_ to be known as the Right Hand of the Divine. Even if we haven't found what happened to her."

"... Wait, I remember you now!" I reply. "You came to the Chant Tree in Amaranthine, when Dottie was doing her tour to celebrate being the new Divine. I think you were that woman – you had longer hair, back then? Sorry you're going bald."

Tethras lets out a wary whistle, and Chirpy slaps her face. " _Bald_?! I just cut it short, that's all!"

"Oh. Sorry anyway? Point is, I do remember you. You were standing up on the balcony with Dottie, and Mistress saw you and went ' _Oh, Wow!_ '"

"Dottie?" Tethras murmurs.

"Dorothy, or whatever her **old** name was. I met her back before she got Divined, so I'm allowed to still call her that." I turn to Chirpy. "Right?" Chirpy doesn't seem to know how to answer, so I keep going. "So then Mistress wondered out loud who you were, and some Templar standing nearby said 'that's Lady Pent-Up-Gasp. She was renamed the new Divine's right hand.' Mistress kept staring at you in awe, with a pent up gasp of her own, which made Braids leer and say 'I think the boss wants to name _her_ right hand after that woman as well!' so Mistress smacked him in the back of the head. Mistress always did have a thing for black-haired women like you. She met some other black-haired girl a few years ago, though, so you missed your opportunity. Sorry again."

Tethras breaks out laughing, and Chirpy's pointedly counting her arrows while facing away from us.

Cassie's face is struggling to settle between several reactions, when someone coughs for attention from behind her. She turns, revealing a guard. "The Elf wants to see 'who's in charge'" he points, to someone further up the path. "... Right now, that's either you or the Chancellor."

"Oh yeah, that's the Mage I mentioned" Tethras says, still smirking.

Cassie motions for him to be allowed in. As he walks up, sun bouncing his bald noggin, I give him a wary sniff. _Smells like a liar. Definitely hiding something._ "I came to offer whatever assistance I can. I've studied several obscure fields of magic."

"Bullshit, you lying prick!" I bark.

"... What?"

"You're hiding something, I can smell it on you."

He kneels down, and taps my muzzle. "You _bit_ the Orb?"

"The orb?" Chirpy asks, picking up on his comment straight away.

"An ancient relic" he quickly replies. "Vessels of Dreams, the Imperium called them. According to my studies, they could cross the gulf between our world and the Fade. A likely candidate for tearing open rifts in the Veil."

I glance up, and finally notice a giant tear in the clouds. "Holy shit! What is that?!"

"We call it the Breach" Cassie remarks.

The Elf pokes my mouth again, before casting some kind of spell on the tingly bit. "Yes, you must have held it in your mouth... which is why you can speak, I assume."

"I could always talk in the Fade, so yeah. I guess this Fade Ball thing lets me talk now." _Wait..._ "Ball. I remember something! I was wandering the hill, because I was bored, and I found some of Chirpy's agents dead. I followed the trail, up into the Temple... yeah. Dottie was there, arguing with a weird looking guy and she slapped a ball out of his hand. I went to catch it! Then I woke up, and Cassie came in to yell at me. I guess Mister Creepy, here, is right about Orbs."

"Creepy?" he mutters.

"No offence, champ, but you smell all kinds of weird and I hate your face. It kinda makes me want to bite you on the butt and chase you away."

"... You wouldn't be the first dog." Creepy stands back. "If I'm right, perhaps this wound it left on your cheek can counteract the rifts. If we can test it on a smaller one..."

"There's a tiny one, up a ways" Tethras gestures.

"True... I still want to know more about this person the dog mentioned" Cassie interjects.

"Mistress? I could talk about her for hours. But like I said, you missed your chance. They're quite happy together."

Chirpy makes an odd sound, and leans down. "I think she means who you saw, with the Divine."

"Oh, Walnut! Right, I'm with you now Cassie."

"Walnut?" Chirpy says, prompting me to go on.

"That's what his head looked like! All bumpy and misshapen. His skin was shrivelled, kinda like the Architect. No horn bits growing out the top, though. He just had a few bony shard things, on the side of his face."

"Architect?" Cassie repeats.

"A Darkspawn aberration, that could plan and talk" Chirpy answers. "The Hero told me about it, once."

Tethras kneels down, in front of me. "... Bony face Darkspawn... that schemes." He taps the corner of his forehead. "The shards. Up around here?"

"That seems right. He had gross skeleton fingers, but really fat shoulders. Oh, and he could do weird magic."

"... Well shit" Tethras spits. "I get the feeling you mean Corypheus."

"That _would_ qualify as a Darkspawn aberration... but you said it was dead" Cassie notes.

"He was – but there had to be a _reason_ they had him locked up, instead of just killing him" he responds. "Seeker? I... may not have been entirely honest with you, about where Hawke is."

While Cassie pulls him aside to screech at him, Creepy turns to Chirpy. "My name is Solas."

"Leliana" she responds, with a guarded smile. "And this is Max."

"Lord Maxwell. How do you do?"

He nods, giving me a studious look-over. "Yes, the Hero of Ferelden's dog. I'm well aware of your _exploits._ "

"About time somebody was..." I look back, as Tethras tries to shelter himself behind a boulder. "Oi, Cassie! How about we get to this rift thing, and you two can chase each other later?"

"That first bit sounds like a great idea!" Tethras concurs, running down to join us.

"This is _not_ over, Varric" Cassie grumbles, as we set off up the hill.

"Okay, so what happened in between me stealing Walnut's ball and waking up in the cellar? I think I had a nightmare about spiders..." I ask.

"The Temple of Sacred Ashes exploded. If you're right, and Justinia _was_ up there at the time..." Chirpy trails off, glumly.

"We will not call off our search, just yet. Not on the word of a Mabari" Cassie orders. "... I just said that sentence out loud."

"They say the Orbs were dangerous, if misused" Creepy opines, as a couple of demons suddenly slam into the ground up ahead. "Clearly, they understated matters."

"No shit" Tethras mutters, drawing a weird crossbow. "Bianca, do your thing!"

"Careful. If _that_ fall didn't kill them, they must be tough fuckers" I warn. Or not, because Chirpy drops both of them with a few arrows. "Nicely done! Schnoz is good and all, but he was never a proper replacement for you."

"... Schnoz?" Tethras glances at me.

"It seems he likes insipid nicknames, too" Cassie groans.

"He means Nathaniel Howe, I think" Chirpy explains, tapping her nose. "I believe you and he crossed paths, now and again."

He scoffs. "Yeah, I remember Big Nose. He could almost out-glum Broody."

"Big Nose... I prefer Schnoz. I sometimes forget I renamed Badger, so I shouldn't complicate it further."

"Badger? Is that one of the newer recruits?" Chirpy asks.

"Nah, that's... what did I call him. Scruffy! He started getting a couple of white streaks in his beard, so I tapped out Badger on the word stones when we were playing word games. He stormed off sulking, and has been clean-shaven ever since, but Braids won't let him forget it."

"Daylen's going grey?" Chirpy tuts. "I didn't expect that."

"Yeah, well..." I groan, as we start going down hill. "None of us are as young as we were, during the Blight." We stop at a random fence. _What idiot put this up, just to block the path?!_ I lean against it, trying to get myself up and over. "Point in case... can someone give me a hand?"

Creepy sizes me up, and shakes his head. _Yeah, you are pretty scrawny. Don't even try._ Chirpy and Tethras glance at each other, and turn to Cassie.

"... What now?" she grumbles.

"Not to be a bother, but could you lift me over this stupid thing?" I request.

With a weary hiss, she climbs back over and manages to lift me up in one try. "Don't squirm" she groans, stepping over the blockade. "This is _beyond_ demeaning..."

"Morrie liked to pretend she didn't like me, too" I laugh, licking her cheek as she lowers me. "Thank you for that, Cass."

"Your noble steed" Tethras quips, as she wipes her face in disgust.

"Well, enough of that" I comment. "Let's go see what happens when I bite a hole in a Fade hole..."

"When you put it that way, this might almost sound like a bad idea" Tethras rolls his eyes. "But Roddy Fancy Robes's only idea seems to be complaining, so I guess we're biting the sky. And I thought **Hawke's** plans were crazy..."

"Relax, brother! I've helped save the world like seven or eight times, and Mistress _always_ made it up as she went – it's much easier to adapt to surprise bullshit coming your way if you don't have a plan to reconfigure."

"You count the Blight as seven times?" Creepy wonders as we wander.

"The Blight, that fucking cat in Rumble's basement, the demons in the Tower getting loose, the demons in the other tower knocking down Old Man Zombie's seals and getting loose, army of pissed off werewolves, the murder dragon in Murder-Town, stopping Braids' ex-wife turning all of Orzammar into insane Golems – because she totally would have, the bone monsters in Red Cliff, whatever the deal was with Morrie's mother, that secret society of blood mages in the capital, the Architect, the broodmother mother, that stupid demon lady in the swamp, those Harvester things... I probably forgot something."

"That's... a lot more than eight" Tethras whistles. "We should talk, once this is done. If half of those really happened, I want your biography rights."

"We also likely prevented international instability, when we rescued Queen Anora" Chirpy adds.

"There you go! Chirpy knows what's up."

"Harvesters?" Creepy says to himself.

"You would have liked them. They were creepy as well."

"Can you not call me Creepy?" he sighs.

"How about Idiot?" I offer. "You saw a massive kaboom, and ran _towards_ it. That's kinda dumb. Or maybe you just like fire, and you roam the countryside looking for dead places. I bet you probably got all stupid about something, and burned your own house down over it at some point so now you just wander and sleep in ruins or something."

He gives me a weird look, while his ears twitch, and walks ahead by himself.

"... That seemed a bit harsh" Tethras points out.

"Hey, last time I ignored someone that blatantly suspicious and slimy-smelling, our entire family got murdered. He can stay to help, in case he does know something he can tell us... but I bet there's stuff he _doesn't_ want to tell. Trust me, I'm on a higher level of consciousness than most people."

"... Because you're possessed?" Cassie scoffs.

"Are you still hung up on that theory?! Relax, Cassie. Badger says I have a flexible grasp of reality, which is why I immediately knew I was in the Fade while that demon had Biddy and Chirpy fooled. I may not have Mistress with me, but I reckon I can handle this by myself. I hereby appoint you three to be my sidekicks, and Chirpy as Head Teammate."

"Hey, **I** knew when I was in the Fade. Why does _she_ get to be Head?" Tethras jokingly grumbles.

"It doesn't count if you _knew_ you were being sent in" Chirpy says. "And you already admitted that."

I shrug. "Seniority. Chirpy was on Team Max long before you guys, so deal with it. Now let's go save the world yet again!"

* * *

 **And that's all... for now. I might do more at some stage, just to have Max call Corypheus 'Walnut' to his face. I hope I avoided spoilers for the actual story - apart from Badger and his theory about Max's mind - which is why Max doesn't name who Mistress ends up with. Poor girl deserves happiness... eventually.**


	20. Then and Now

**I'm back! Sorry about the recent gap - a childhood friend's father died, and the planned "Nate and Mistress talk about their dead parents" chapter wasn't something I felt comfortable doing. So the following is a couple of alt-versions of anyone but Mistress talking to Nate about it joined together, and might flow a bit messily. I hope to get back to the usual goofiness next week and beyond.**

* * *

 _Huh, what?_ Oh. Mistress is poking me. _Are you done lighting candles and muttering to yourself, then? Sorry. You were taking forever, so I guess I fell asleep. Had the weirdest dream, too. A talking walnut was being evil, so I killed him. Then some creepy Elf was creepy, and doing something painful to me amongst a pile of dead Qunari... until you showed up with another Elf, who had glowing tattoos, and he punched Creepy **through** the heart just before you cut his creepy head off. We sure showed that non-existent idiot, Mistress!_

"... I think I used up their candle supply" Mistress murmurs, as she picks her sword and shield up.

I look at the shelves, flickering with light. _Yeah, probably. Good thing Tadpole came in when he did, and lit just the one for Tommy. He said something about hunting smugglers, when he left. Are we still doing that?_

We walk outside, to find the others waiting. _Why is Nail wiping his shield? … You bastards went and got into a fight – without_ _ **us**_ _!_

"I said you were going to be a while, so Loghain decided against waiting" Tadpole notes, getting up.

"No, that's fair." _No it isn't! They didn't bring me for the fun!._ "I kept thinking of more faces every time I put a candle down" Mistress sighs. "Sorry, I guess I knew too many people."

Nail shrugs. "We found a distraction." _Rub it in, jerk. I only got to fight idiots in a daydream._

Biddy pats her shoulder, and hands her something. "Rylien said to give you this... and that the statue is yours."

Mistress nods, and offers her a smile. "Thanks. It's late now, but I'll go looking for your friend tomorrow."

"As you will. Good luck, my dear; and be careful." With that, Biddy heads for the Chant Tree. _HEY! 'Goodbye Max, may you never encounter Schleets'? Miserable old bat didn't even acknowledge me. And here I thought we were friends... well, not really; but_ _ **she**_ _should have hoped I thought that!_

The others head down the stairs, so I run to catch up. "You and Wynne, huh? How did that go?" Mistress asks Nail.

He grunts. "We ignored each other, mostly. When she realised who _he_ was, she did her sagely wise woman act with the boy."

"... She said she helped Thomas from being in pain" Tadpole adds.

"That's true" Mistress answers. "The Clan we met planted a tree for him, while they were mourning their own dead. Not _in_ their camping grounds; but if we're down that way some time, Aneirin can show us where."

"A tree?"

"Dalish funeral rites" Mistress answers. "We had no means for a pyre without setting the forest ablaze. I accepted, when Danaya offered."

"He liked running in the woods, as a boy. And tales abut the Elves" Tadpole ponders. "Now I think about it, Del didn't mention his ashes..."

Mistress offers him an apologetic look, as she leads us into a tavern. They all sit at the corner table, and Nail hands her some papers. "Seems like Kristoff was investigating the Blackmarsh. There's a map for the area, hanging in his room."

Mistress and Tadpole both groan. _What?_ "Why is he hunting ghost tales?" she grumbles.

"The Blight started in the Korcari swamps, right? Maybe he thought to check the nearest marsh, because of their war bands" Tadpole suggests.

She flips a sheet, and frowns. "Or not – according to this, he was chasing bandits. By order of … Lieutenant Gable." _Who the fuck is Gable? There's already too many characters to keep track of!_ "Do you know him?" she asks Nail. "More importantly, why the hell was he making promises 'like 'he offered to finally release me from service, when this is resolved'?" she adds, doing a gruff impression. _Wait, what? On whose authority, arsehole?! I thought some Dwarf Warden was in charge until Mistress returned? I still don't know who Gable is, or where he gets the nerve to undermine Mistress in absence by sending Wardens home; much less to do his own personal errands... but he_ _ **definitely**_ _needs his butt bitten!_

"Gable... I can't say I remember that name" Nail answers, after a moment's thought.

"Hmm" Mistress murmurs, still looking over the papers. "I'll see if Varel or the Captain know him... unless he died during the assault." _And if he didn't, I'll make him wish he had until he coughs up some fucking answers. It's not like he needs_ _ **all**_ _his toes, if he tries to be recalcitrant._

"The innkeeper said he last saw Kristoff a week ago" Nail says, as she shuffles the pile back together.

"Did she say anything else?" Mistress asks, gesturing to a woman on the balcony. _She's carrying a tray, so she must do the room service._

Nail glances up. "I didn't see her, earlier. You think he said something to her?"

"I get the feeling he stayed up there mostly, so she would have had more to do with Kristoff than the barman. It's worth a shot" Mistress points out, before standing.

"And away she goes" Tadpole says. "You'd never know she just lit enough candles to burn down a warehouse... does she do that every time you pass a Chantry?"

Nail looks over, with much the same expression I bet I have. _What are you trying to say about her, Tadpole?!_ "No, but today was probably the first time she's just sat in one since before the Blight."

"It's been a been a year, though" Tadpole adds.

 _Look, man, Red Cliff was under siege by bone monsters. Orzammar just had one nutcase claiming to be a Sister... or he was the Mother by default, I guess. Low Vering kicked us out because 'The Regent' outlawed us – not to point any fingers,_ _ **Nail**_ _. The only chapel open to us was in Murder Town, and guess what? They wanted to Murder us, hence the name! By the time we got to Denny Rem, the Horde were moving and we didn't have time for Chant Tree nonsense._

Nail straightens up. "You know how long it was before I could bring myself to light anything for my father, and the rest of our village? Almost five years. Just because the battles are over doesn't mean you know peace."

Tadpole ponders that. "The Chantry denounced _you_ , though."

"On behalf of The Pretender" Nail shrugs. "One might say the exact same thing happened with her..." _Ah, I guess I don't need to point fingers. He's doing it himself._ "Until I found Ailis, I only set foot in a chapel once. So Maric and I could kill the turncoats who murdered Moira and my father." _Not that I_ _ **have**_ _fingers, of course._

Tadpole winces at that. "On hallowed ground?"

"It was the only place they'd agree to meet us" Nail chuckles, darkly. _Hey, win however you can, right? It's a shame the Cathedral near Eamon's house was always shut – we could have lured Toad-Face in there, and slit his throat much earlier! Chirpy knew the right people, and Sister Bacon was a reasonable girl so she would have approved. It would have saved a lot of fucking time... sorry, Tadpole, but I won't apologise for that._

Tadpole fidgets a little, before speaking. "... Now I'm wondering if she would have done that."

Nail rubs two fingers on the table. "Probably not – she's like Rowan." _You said Maric, last time. Make your mind up._ "She'll stick to vows and honour, even if she hates herself... that's why I'm here, and the boy isn't."

"Ah. I heard rumours about Maric's bastard, on my way south. Supposedly he's in Hercinia." Tadpole exhales. "I'll take your word for it... even if everything hadn't happened the way it did, I think I'd still have trouble believing she's the same noisy girl from when I left. She was murdering a flute, hoping to learn, last I saw her." _She got better, probably. I've only heard her use one, so maybe others are more better._

That makes Nail think. "Hmm – now I think about it, that **might** have been her. I wasn't really paying attention to the musicians, but a younger girl did play one at Anora's wedding. She was alright, I suppose." _Ha! Coming from you, that's high praise._ "You'd know what she was like, more than I did. As for how she is now... I remember something Ailis told me, when we were trying to get Anora out of her room when Celia died. _You don't catch grief, grief catches you_."

They keep talking about other shit, mostly how Tadpole's handling things about Toadface. I couldn't care less about that prick, so I look about to see what Mistress is doing. _Oh, she's on the balcony with Tray Lady._ Mistress must be done talking to her, because she starts walking to the hallway... while Tray Lady's eyes lower to watch Mistress leave. _You know you can't see her butt in that armour, right?_ Whatever. _I'm going investigating._

I get back to the table, right as Mistress rejoins them. _Mistress! Give me coin!_ "So..." she begins. "Nate, think Del would let you sleep at her place? There's no rooms left."

"The house seemed big enough" he shrugs. "I'll go find out, while there's still some light."

She nods, and turns to me as I nudge her again. _Coin, please?_ I go for a third time, when she digs out her money to buy a drink from Tray Lady. _I need that._ She groans, and holds out a few pieces. "... What are you up to?" I bark, and nod at the Orphan's donation box. _You can tell they're real orphans, because they can't spell good._

She glances at the box for a moment, before sighing. "Looks like a scam, Max..." She still slides a few coins between my teeth, though. _Thanks, Mistress. You're awesome even when needlessly sceptical._

I drop it in, and walk back as Mistress and Nail are staring at the menu painted above the kitchen doorway. _Oh, right. 'Tis almost dinner._

"You take the bed" Nail tells her, as they apparently decide on food. "That couch looked big enough."

Mistress furrows her brow. "Or the other way around. I'm young enough to get away with sleeping on couches."

 _Hey, this is easily fixed! I'll take the bed, Mistress the couch... and if there's a tub, Nail can sleep in that. It's what he deserves._

I start pacing away slowly, to sneak up and selflessly end the impending argument by removing the bed from contention. Mistress's ear slightly twitches, and she turns to glare at me. _Hello! I'm not doing anything you need to concern yourself about?_

" **Max**..." _Well, bugger._ I turn and run, as I escape her disapproval. "Damn it. Max, no!" she calls, shoving her chair back. _Ha! The chase is on!_


	21. An Unacquired Taste

_Listen, you stupid bastard – I don't know what guest room you're in, much less how to find it! Do I **look** like the butler?! Now get out of my face, before I bite your-_

Huh? I glance about the room. _Oh right, we're in an Amaranthine pub... I think I was having a weird dream, but I forget what it was about. I wonder if Mistress is awake yet?_

I get off my side of the bed, ignoring Nail and whether he's up. _I still think_ _ **he**_ _should have taken the couch... or the bathtub._ Luckily, there's enough light to find the couch. The sun must have risen a bit. I hop onto the far end, and crawl along Mistress' legs until I can sit near her head. She groans a couple of times, before her eyes crack open and squint at me.

"Whadoingmacks?" she sleepily grumbles.

 _Good morning._

"Get off me..." her eyes slam themselves shut, as she tries to roll over.

I lick her cheek, and wait. _No? I guess she needs another lick._

A hand lightly shoves my face back. " _Why_ are you sitting on me?"

 _Because I missed you!_ She sighs, but lets me lick her again. "Yeah, great..." Mistress mutters, while rubbing my ear. "Let me up, then."

 _In a moment. Let's just sit here._

"Someone still thinks he's a pup" Nail notes, from where he's sat up on the bed.

 _I **am** a pup, ser. At moments like this, at least. Someone has to remind Mistress we love her, and not just because she saved the world._

Satisfied, I jump down so she can move about. "He's the only one" she answers, pushing her hair back. _Wait, how did you get bed-head when you weren't even on the bed? Couch-head? Nah, that sounds dumb._ "Suppose I better get ready... since I wasted yesterday afternoon in the Chantry."

"You're fine, girl" Nail replies. "I know **exactly** how hard it is; finally letting go of things swallowed down, in order to focus on keeping a Theirin alive in the wilderness." _Right?! Was yours a whiny idiot who only cared about his own problems, too? King Shiny at Ostagar was definitely an idiot, so it probably runs in their family... 'Theirin' lies the problem, you might say._

"Right" Mistress shrugs. "... Seemed like you were helping Nate yesterday, too."

"We'll see. **Wynne** probably said more." _Yeah, but she's a verbose windbag. Whereas you're brutally succinct. Both have their place._

"That figures" Mistress nods. "... Well, let's be off." _Breakfast?_ "I have to speak with someone in the market, and we'll collect Nate from Del's house." _… And Delly will give us breakfast?_

We keep shoving our way through the crowd. _I know this is a trading city, but can't they conduct business in a more orderly fashion?_ Mistress glances at a few signs, rubbing her neck. "I forgot what the mid-week markets were like..." She turns to the nearest stall. "Excuse me, I'm trying to find Mervis of the Merchants' Guild?" The fruit man nods, and points out directions. _Left, right, right. Right!_

We round a few corners, and find a few people underneath a larger sign. _I'm hoping that jittery looking guy is Mervis... so then I can call him a Mervis wreck from how he keeps looking around._

I guess he is, because he came running when Mistress announced she's the Warden-Commander.

 _Something about wagons. That can't travel, because bandits. Immobile wagons are boring – let me know when there's moving wagons. They're fun, because you can hang your face over the side when going downhill and you get a rush of wind up your nose. All those scents, compacting together all at once, is **amazing**. I bet it's what being drunk is like, except you don't throw up at the end. _

Bandits in the Wending Wood, he says. _That was where Fussy asked us to go, right? … What if it's her friend attacking the traders? Okay, unlikely; but I'll still prepare myself to fight a crazy mage. Just in case._

We continue on, and... there she is! _Delly! Hi!_ I run ahead, to where she and Tadpole are sitting at a table. _How the hell are you?! It's been forever! …Wow. You got_ _ **fat**_ _._ Mistress runs up, and roughly grabs me by the war-collar. _Oh right, I still have that thing on._ Mistress claims it gives me +8 attack, whatever that means, but I think she just makes me wear it so it's easier to stop me. _Unhand me, you ill-mannered ruffian! I wanna say hi to Delly._ "Slow down, and be gentle" Mistress advises, before letting me go. _Why? She'd be well-padded with how fat she... oh? Ah. She's preggers – you could have just told me that earlier! Congratulations, Delly; I hope your human puppy doesn't turn out to be an idiot._

Delly and Tadpole must have glanced up at some point, him a bit confused and she gives me a smirk. "Well, I see Maxwell hasn't changed." _Why meddle with perfection, I say._ She leans down and scratches behind my left ear. She even remembered my favourite spot! "Yes, I missed you too. Good work keeping her alive through the Blight. Excellently done." _More, praise me more!_ "I hope you'll keep it up – and look out for my brother too." _I reckon I could do that, yeah. Since_ _ **you**_ _asked._

She glances up, and past Mistress. "Oh! Teyrn Loghain! … Good morning."

"Lady Howe" he nods back, stiffly. _Hey, shut up! She's not using her name... right? Or what is the deal with that now?_

"Talman, now" Delly responds. _Ah. Mistress said he was a blacksmith, so I guess he's working by now._ Mistress steps past me, when Delly pushes herself up. "Come with me, a moment" she tells Mistress. "You still haven't met Albert."

 _Neither have I – let's see if he's good enough for you._ I follow behind them, leaving Tadpole and Nail outside. We get into a hallway, and Delly stop to close both doors. _Huh?_

She takes a breathe, and pulls Mistress into a hug. "He was telling me about your other Wardens last night, and I realised he never mentioned _her_. I'm sorry..."

Mistress stiffens up, and nods. "Thank you..." she whispers back. After a few moments, they let each other go. "Now, let's meet this mysterious Albert of yours" Mistress suggests, wiping her face.

Delly opens the far door, and motions us through. _If that big guy is him... he reeks of sweat and smoke. I know he's a blacksmith, but still!_

* * *

 _Finally, we can see the Keep! We never did get breakfast... just some dried meat strips Mistress bought. I know she's got something else in her satchel, something sneaky the way she picked it up from the tavern and hid it!_ I faintly detect the odour of food, so it must be near lunch.

Mistress salutes the sentries as we pass, and leads us through the gate. _Hey look, Braids and Scruffy are in the training yard._ Braids spots us and lowers his axe with a grunt, while Scruffy still has his back turned. _Is he reading a book?_ He looks up from whatever's in his hand, and his other arm raises itself up. His staff flashes white, and then mist explodes around him. It slowly blows away, showing all the dummies around him are completely frozen. _Whoa – okay, that's impressive._

"Hey Kid, quit playing about!" Braids bellows, making him turn.

"Commander!" Scruffy waves, running over to join us.

"That seemed new" Mistress notes, with a trace of approval.

Scruffy holds up that book. "Yeah. _Hand of Winter._ Cera, the Circle envoy upstairs, sold this to me. A collection of advanced combat spells. It took a few goes, but..." he gestures back to the ring of dummies. "The results speak for themselves."

"Indeed they do" she smiles, before rummaging through her satchel. "Wynne says hello."

His eyes slightly roll, but he smiles back. "Was that all she said?"

"Well, she gave me more work."

"Ah. That sounds more like her" Scruffy replies, breaking into a grin. "Something complicated?"

" _Shouldn't_ be, but you know our luck. It's where I was heading next, anyway."

"So we're going to the Woods, first?" Tadpole asks.

"I am" Mistress answers, gesturing for everyone to bunch up. "First light tomorrow, I'll take Oghren and Daylen to the Woods to flush out these bandits. Loghain, Nate, I want you to scout out this ravine Colbert found. If it's deserted, great; Dworkin can collapse it later."

"If it's not?" Nail asks.

"Then get an idea of numbers. If you think you can handle it, sweep the area. If not, get back here and we'll all go in when I return" Mistress orders. "Now, lets all get some food and then back out here for group training. Hopefully those dummies thaw out by then?" she comments, teasingly.

Scruffy ponders that for a moment, before shrugging. "Book didn't mention that part."

As we wander up to the Keep, Tadpole and Scruffy split to one side. "That woman, Wynne? She said you were on the team that infiltrated my estate..."

Scruffy's face goes weary for a second. "I was – but let's discuss this after eating. Take the time to consider what you really want answered."

Up ahead, Mistress pulls some flasks out of her satchel. _Oh, that's what she bought._ "Oghren? Here."

"What's this?"

"... A peace offering. I shouldn't have snapped at you so much, about Felsi. So I ordered these specially from the tavern-master. Made just for you" she smiles, as he takes them.

"Huh. Well, thanks!" he answers, sheepishly. "I want to.. look, I'm sorry about that mess too. I just-"

"I know" Mistress cuts him off, patting his shoulder. I hear him pop a flask open, as Mistress and I follow Nail up the stairs.

" **Puuh**!" _What just happened?!_ I turn back, to see Braids spitting liquid, coughing each time he tries to get it all out. "What the sod is _**this**_?!"

Nail shakes his head, as Mistress evilly smirks to herself. She then turns around, looking down at the yard. "Grape juice, apple wine, and gin. All mixed up, just for you!" she shouts back.

Braids coughs a bit more, as Scruffy gently slaps his back in between laughing. "Hurrh... okay, fine. You got me good, Commander!" he finally answers, with a frustrated grin. Naturally, he takes another gulp. "Hmm... this actually ain't too bad now I'm ready for it."

 _Of course..._

* * *

 **Sorry, Albert - you sound like a great guy and all, but you remain a faceless name in the Maxverse. You're lucky I even bothered coming up with a last name for you.**

 **Everyone else: thanks again for reading, following and the such. Actual story stuff next time, so the chapter will most likely be on time this time.**


	22. Her Royal Ines

**_Out of town for the weekend, so I'm throwing this up now. Been a while since I got out two in a week._**

* * *

 _Well, Mistress was right. Again._ I abandon that thought, and latch on the nearest idiot's arm. _Bandits._ Braids sinks his axe into the moron's back, so I let go and charge another guy. Or not, because Scruffy zaps him with lightning. _That was easy. I like it._

"This... doesn't look like bandits" Scruffy says, inspecting a broken wagon.

 _Mistress said it would be, we found some.. therefore it is! Pay attention._

"No" she replies. _Huh?_ "Especially leaving the bodies around, like they are. This seems more like a warning to stay out."

"Hey, uh... that might be good advice" Braids cautions, pointing to the tree line. The **moving** tree line. "Those things again!"

"What the fuck is that?!" Scruffy asks, as one displays its claws at us. _That's those evil tree things that move like people. We fought some back in the Werewolf forest. Careful, Scruffy; tree-people are vicious... treeople._

"Sylvans" Mistress groans. "Daylen, some _flames_ would be welcome."

"Yeah. I think you're right." He clears his throat, before letting his hands ignite. It somehow screams when he sets it ablaze. Mistress and Braids have to charge in to finish it off, before we continue on.

 _So much for this being easy... are we **sure** Fussy's friend Ines is worth all this hassle?_

"A bridge... over some stones? You surfacers sure are lazy" Braids mutters, as we walk across a platform over a lengthy pile of rocks.

"It's for wagons, so they don't get stuck" Scruffy comments.

 _At least it's a nicely built bridge, either way. The local masons know their stuff._

"Get out of my way!" someone shouts, running towards us. _Relax, buddy; there's plenty of bridge for all of us._

Mistress grabs him. "What's going on?"

"The Elf! She makes the trees come alive!" _Nah, Fussy explained it to us. A demon possesses a tree, and_ _ **that's**_ _how you get treeople. And if it's a good spirit... I guess that's what that crazy Oak poet was? The point is that you fucking shems really need to stop blaming the Elves for everything._

"What Elf?" Mistress demands.

He's about to answer, when a cracking sound echoes. "Here she comes again!" He gets loose of Mistress' grip and bolts into the woods. _Idiot – if the treeople are after you, stay_ _ **on**_ _the path. Oh well, I bet one gets him quick._

Another crack sounds, up by the hill. Tree roots burst from the ground and a woman emerges from them. _Ah, there's the Elf. She looks grumpy... and I think that weird outfit means she's a Mage. Would you happen to be Ines, then?_

"More scavengers?" she glowers, eyeing us up. "No... you're too well-armed. Here for me, then."

 _Good, we found her! Hello, Ines; yes, Wynne requests your presence in Amaranthine. A conference, or some bullshit – I wasn't listening after the first minute of waffling. You've spoken with her before, so you know what I'm talking about. Blahblahdeblah, am I right?_

"You will not drive me from the forest! The shems could not do it" _Odd. I wonder why Fussy didn't mention she'd already sent people after this woman._ "The Darkspawn could not do it. _You_ will fare no better!"

"There's Darkspawn here?" Mistress responds. Ines nods, still scowling.

"Great – more shit we have to kill" Braids spits. "At least _this_ is actually part of our job."

That makes Ines look closer at Mistress' tabard. _I think that's what she's looking at._ "Wardens? Ah, you're _here_ for the Darkspawn. Then we have no quarrel." _We never did?_ "If you find more caravans, tell them to release my sister before more of their men die!"

"Wait-" Mistress calls out.

"Go, deal with your Darkspawn and stay out of my way. Consider this a **warning**." Ines does that tree root thing again, and vanishes. _So, maybe it's just me... but I'm starting to think that might_ _ **not**_ _have been Ines. What do you guys think?_

We continue on up the path, discovering some men fighting another of the treeople. Braids slices through its branch, or arm, or whatever.. only for one of the men to try stabbing him. _What the_ _ **fuck**_ _?! We come save you guys from the murdertree, and this is the thanks we get? Bandits have no manners._ Braids must agree, because he spins in place and slams his hilt into the ungrateful pigfucker's face. "Wait until **that** thing's dead first!" he spits, kicking the collapsed idiot. _These people are arseholes – no wonder Fake Ines started killing them._ Oh good, Scruffy and Mistress dealt with Murdertree. _We can go find Real Ines, and get out of this stupid forest._ A familiar tingle runs up my back right as I think that. _Oh, right... those Darkspawn that Fake Ines told us about._

* * *

Mistress kicks the last Darkspawn over, and glances about. "More statues, down there" she points into the dale. "The scholar will probably want an impression from those, too."

They don't look like the other statues, when we approach. "You... **come here!** " _Uh... who was that?_ "It has been a long time..."

"... The statues?" Mistress says, moving over to stare at it.

"I have forgotten... even my name. But I am a warrior." _NO! We're not talking to any creepy statues today, thank you very much. So you can just shut your damn mouth, and we'll be moving on. Scruffy, are you doing some stupid 'throwing your voice' trick?_

"What is this shit?" Braids grumbles.

"Rumour was that we had a talking statue, hidden deep within the Circle vaults" Scruffy muses, leaning in to stare at it. "I wonder"

"I also wonder" Mistress vacantly comments, walking around it.

 _I **don't** wonder. Unless it's 'why aren't we backing away from the creepy thing?'_

"What's it even meant to be?" Braids asks. "Even the Dalish dress better than that."

"I am Avaar... and I am cursed."

 _Oooookay. Seriously, **that** is our sign to move on!_

"There haven't been Avaar this far north in centuries" Mistress muses, still looking it up and down.

"Longer than that. Seasons beyond counting... I was a man to be feared. A man of war." _If you have a non-creepy point, please get to it._ "Tevinter sorcerers came here, seeking easy prey." _Typical – fucking Vints._ "But they found us! Me, my brother, our tribe. We broke them at the Fort of a Thousand Vigils, and then pursued the Magister."

"... If you mean the battle I'm thinking of, that was a thousand years ago. At least" Mistress says. "There's a poem about it, I'm sure."

"So long... we cornered the Magister here, to sacrifice him to Uvolla. Even as his guards fell, he cursed my brother and I. We watched him torn apart, with stone eyes."

 _Yeah yeah, we get it. Kill him again and break the spell, right? At least Rumble gets to the point, instead of moping about it._

"Please, wait." _Oh, in the name of fuck! Of_ _ **course**_ _the other statue talks as well..._ So this one doesn't want the guy killed. ' _Violence isn't the answer.' No offence, brother, but if Mistress thought that, then the Archdemon would have killed everyone._

But she's talking to the first statue about making peace or whatever, anyway. "You think this Magister _can_ be killed?" she asks. _This was a thousand years ago, right? So back before Templars were a thing. Mistress knows some of their tricks, she can Cleanse any tricky stuff he has to resurrect himself!_

"He has fallen twice, before. By my clan. The second time, he was struck down by an Alamarri – Dane, he called himself." _Well, that settles it. Even if ignoring the ghost of an arsehole who can turn people to stone was a good idea, which wouldn't just see more people cursed... we can't let_ _ **Dane's**_ _works go unfinished!_

" _The_ Dane?" Mistress enquires.

"You know the name? He spoke of hunting dragons – beyond that, I know nothing of him."

 _That's the one! Let's go kill this thing!_ We soon find the ash pile down the hill. _Definitely magic, if his ashes have been here a thousand years and not gotten scattered by the wind already._ And up he rises... I was right – Mistress' Templaring quickly finishes the freak off. _Back we go, then?_

"He is dead... if I had blood, it would _sing!_ Rest comes upon me, saviour..." _Ha! In your face, Statue Two! Shows what you know._ "You... look to the earth. The Dane, he left tribute." The statues go quiet, and the air suddenly seems lighter. _I guess he's gone. Sleep well, brother. Brothers._

Mistress kneels down, and digs around something. _Is that a sword handle? I thought it was the tip of another broken statue._ Definitely a sword, I notice as she gets it free. "... A sword of Dane's. I should leave it."

"Nah, you earned it" Braids insists. _You can't just leave that to rust or get eaten by Darkspawn! If anyone deserves to carry it, it's_ _ **you**_ _._

"You've already got one sword of his, right?" Scruffy asks. "Time to unite the pair." _Oh yeah, that one from the Tower._

She carefully secures it to her belt, and stands back up. "Let's keep moving, then." Mistress stops, and squints into the distance. "I think there's someone, over there."

 _Hopefully this turns out to be Ines. The real one, I mean._

"Hello, there" Mistress calls as we climb the slope. "Are you Ines?"

She turns around. _Ah, Circle robes. That's promising. I think we found Real Ines._ "I am... **careful**! Don't tread on my dirt, please."

"Right – I remember her, now" Scruffy remarks.

That makes Real Ines glance at him. "... Darren, wasn't it? You used to help pick pests out of my sample garden."

He gives a 'close enough' nod, as Mistress speaks up again. "Wynne asked me to find you, for-"

"Wynne?! What does she want **this** time?" _Oh, I like you already!_ "More badgering about helping the drooling apprentices, again? She constantly pestered Uldred about that, when he just wanted to be left alone. No wonder he went mad!"

Mistress looks back at us, confused, before trying again. "... So you _aren't_ her friend?"

Real Ines scoffs. "Shocking, isn't it? _How_ could anyone not love golden, glorious Wynne?!" _I think I love_ _ **you**_ _, Real Ines. Forget the Circle Convention, can we hire her to work at the Keep?_ "So what does little miss 'I'm so special, the Fade shines out my bum' want?" _Oh wise one, please be my mentor!_

"The College are meeting soon, and she wants you to accompany our envoys" Scruffy informs her.

She wisely ponders this, before her wise head gives a nod of wisdom. "Hmm.. you help me find the last seeds I need, Darren, and I'll talk to her at least."

"Just like old times" Scruffy smiles. "What are we after?" _We are here to serve, Your Ines._

"Northern prickleweed. The plant has broad green leaves, with thorny stems, and you'll find it on rocky ground. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll continue my work here."

Braids fishes through his pack. "Big green leaves.. like these?" he asks, producing a heap of leaves.

"That looks right" Ines decrees.

"Ah, good. I spotted them earlier – back the way we came" Braids boasts.

Scruffy's brow furrows. "Why did you take the leaves, but?"

"They looked nice and thick, in case I needed to wipe my arse. Last time we came to the woods just to deliver a message, we ended up stuck there for a week and I ran out of rags." _Huh – Braids makes a good point for once. Hopefully we don't end up in another mess with werewolves, but we already found Dane's sword. Who knows what we might encounter, out here in nowhere..._

"I need to stop asking you this stuff" Scruffy sighs.

"... If we're _quite_ done with this topic" Mistress pinches her nose, letting out a groan. "Let's find that Dalish woman." _Yeah! Who does she think she is, posing as our glorious new friend Ines?!_

* * *

 **I thought I would definitely get to Velanna this chapter, but I ran into Ines while doing a quick game session; to remind myself what happens in the Wending Woods. Once she started griping about Wynne, I knew Max would adopt Ines as his new hero and I _had_ to add her to the mix. I had also forgotten about the statues giving you Dane's sword if you don't take the peaceful option... which would have been quite a loss, after I turned Dane into God in what passes for Max's concept of faith.**

 **All these toys BioWare gives us - spoilt for choice! Speaking of which, BioWare's stuff is BioWare's. Thanks to everyone reading/following, Melysande for still reviewing.**


	23. Dwarven Babies Come From Where?

I take another sniff. _Whoa, this tunnel stinks... but it'll be the fastest way through._ While crawling, I allow myself a sigh. _I warned them all not to step on the weird tiled section on the floor, even before that weirdo started talking... and to my utter lack of surprise, he magicked Mistress and the others to sleep. Luckily, he sent mindless ghouls down to fetch them... the great thing about mindless ghouls is that they're totally stupid; thus they didn't notice me – so I'll sneak inside through this tunnel, if it doesn't finish collapsing while I'm inside to bust Mistress and Scruffy out of there. Braids and the Moody Elf are secondary targets. I still have no idea why she was posing as Ines, earlier.. because she reminds me way more of Morrie. Hopefully we get to keep her._

I carefully scratch a wider passage, to get around a tree root. _I mean, we didn't even have an Elf during the Blight. It gets tiresome, only being around humans. And Braids. Qunie sure whined enough to count as a human, so_ _ **that**_ _fat moron didn't help matters! 'Pleasant conversation is an affront to the Qun, and I should burn and butcher your lands for attempting to discuss the sunrise.' Kinda an idle threat, since Toad-Face had already pillaged Highever, but pardon the fuck out of us for saying good morning, Qunie!_

I force myself through the opening, and crawl out onto a staircase. Okay, this is definitely not where we came in. _Back exit located. Step two: find Mistress._ As I'm sniffing about the door, I hear footsteps coming. _They sound heavy, so it's not any of us... and too fat to be a Hurlock. Can't be an Ogre, though?_ I push my butt back into the hole, ready to pounce from cover if I need to.

 _Okay, so who... the fuck is **this**?! _A Qunari man gingerly steps through the doors, and shuts them behind him. "Well, this _was_ a nice little earner... but those ladies had the look of death in their eyes. Especially the redhead."

 _Oh hey, so you met Mistress! Great, you can show me where to find her!_

He glances over, confused. "... Now there's a dog here." _Yes, 'and Alistair is still the stupidest member of the party.' Neat callback, champ... however you even know about that. Morrie probably told you, I guess. No matter!_ I shake the dirt off of myself, and step forward. _Good morrow, ser. My name is Lord Maxwell, and I'm on a rescue mission of the upmost importance. If you could kindly open those doors, and let me inside, you can be on your way to safety. You look like a humble and defenseless merchant, with your sack and coin-belt, so I can hardly demand you accompany me back inside the Darkspawn lair you've only just exited, and..._ Hang on. _**What**_ _were you doing in there, again?! You mentioned profit... but you clearly weren't selling stuff to the Darkspawn, because that'd just be fucking stupid. You don't look like a nutcase, like Qunie. So I guess you're a looter? Finding relics in old places and sell them to scholars._ That makes much more sense than being a Darkspawn go-between. _Sorry man, I didn't have much air in that tunnel so my brain was giving me stupid ideas for a moment._ _But how about this door, then?_

Two massive screeches suddenly sound from behind the doors, and the Qunari looter winces. "I guess he weren't kidding about having dragons..."

 _Who's got dragons? Not that ugly goat-headed bastard we ran into?! HEY! You get **back** here, and let me in there to help Mistress! _And he's gone running up the stairs. _UGH. Damn coward. I ever see him again, I'm taking his boot – if not his entire fucking foot!_ Another roar reverberates through the walls. Yep, that's definitely a dragon. Good thing I got out of my tunnel, before it starts shaking the entire mine. _With my luck, everything would collapse on my head._ Still, it doesn't sound **huge**. Looter Man had me worried, talking about these Darkspawn having underground dragons - it sounded like another fucking **_Archdemon_** , phrased that way!

* * *

It sounds like the fight is winding down. I think I just heard Braids cheering, and there's almost no thumping around anymore. _Every time_ Mistress _leaves me behind, she has to fight a dragon. Clearly she needs to stop doing that. Murder Temple? Dragon. Morrie's mum? Dragon, apparently. Archdemon?_ _ **Big**_ _dragon. I know Aldous used to say coronation is not causation, but there's an obvious and undeniable pattern here... I still don't understand what proclaiming a new monarch had to do with it. Unless the old goat was making a metaphor about how we shouldn't look for connections that aren't really there? Like his butchered wording? It wouldn't have killed the old guy to speak plainly... not when some Amaranthine arsehole with a sword killed him instead._

It sounds like a wall collapsed in there, just now. _Or did an archer get him? Aldous, I mean; not that spike-faced git who captured Mistress. He clearly didn't hear about how she escaped Drakon – or he would have known_ _ **this**_ _shitty excuse for a dungeon could never hold her._ I glance around the corridor while waiting. _Seriously, just look at this place. Chipped tiles, missing wall sections... and this freak has the nerve to call himself Architect. He's been lurking here long enough to tame a dragon, and_ _ **this**_ _is the best upkeep he could manage in all that time? 'Architect' my bum! Guy couldn't architextualise a log cabin in the Brecilian! Whatever the plural action word-thing is for architecting... huh. Is it architecting? Well, I guess it don't matter; considering he's architected his last scheme, by going up against Mistress and I. Go architextualise what you want your tomb to look like, arsehole! Maybe give it drainage sluices, because I'm gonna be peeing all over it after you're dead. Just a friendly heads-up._

Finally the doors grind open. _Mistress! Scruffy! New Elf friend! - you remind me a bit of Morrie, so I'm_ _ **sure**_ _we'll be friends! …Braids. Did you guys have fun, fighting a dragon or whatever? Sorry I missed it._

"Sodding mutt... showing up after we slaughter the dragons" Braids groans, as I leap over everyone else to check they're not hurt.

"At least they were small ones, for a change" Scruffy says, still wiping flesh-bits off his robe. _Yeah_ _, small ones aren't that big. Stop complaining, Braids... especially since I was_ _ **trying**_ _to get in there! Looks like you all slaughtered a lot of Darkspawn too. Is that Architect dead, then? I guess not – Mistress wouldn't look so glum. Elf-Morrie looks pretty bad too, now I look at her._

As we reach daylight, Mistress blinks and takes a moment to study the sun. "Late afternoon... we'll stay at your camp tonight, and leave at first light. We should also have your Joining quickly, after being around that much Darkspawn blood" she concludes, turning to Elf-Morrie

 _We could probably make it back. It's not like we have to worry about the bandit attacks, since it turned out to be Elf-Morrie and she's on our side now. You're on our side, right?_

"Yep, sounds good" Braids declares, rubbing his shoulder. "That was a long fight today. And Kiddo probably needs to piss out all that lyrium he drank when those dragons came at us."

Scruffy shakes his head with a sigh. "Something like that..."

Those two walk around, while I stay at Mistress and Elf-Morrie's pace. "There's a few things you need to know, about the Joining" Mistress begins.

"You already said it's dangerous" Elf-Morrie shrugs in response. "I do not fear death."

"Not just that" Mistress warns. "You'll have nightmares for a while. It shortens your life-span, so you might live another 30 years or so. I'm told it varies, depending on the person. But their blood will eventually take over."

That makes Elf-Morrie glance up. "We _become_ Darkspawn?"

"Sort of... the lucky ones just go insane, like the ghouls we saw. Wardens traditionally go into the Deep Roads alone when their time is running out, to die in final battle. Take as many Spawn possible with you, that kind of thing." Mistress firms her shoulders. "I'm letting you know now, because there's no backing out. Even when we find your sister, you'll have to stay with us and not her. I let someone walk away once already; the Wardens will **not** allow that again. So there you are – everything upfront. I was forced into service, with the Warden falsely promising my dying father he was saving my life. I won't lie to any of _my_ recruits the same way." _Hell, her sister will probably catch Blight sickness from being underground with Darkspawn this long. We'll probably have to Join her as well, so that all works out._

Elf-Morrie is silent as we walk for a while. "... I appreciate that, then. But I will see this through, and save my sister."

"Very well" Mistress tries to smile. "Just know that I'll find her, even if your Joining fails. I'll also bury you at your camp, with your friends. You prefer any kind of tree?"

"You know our rites?" Elf-Morrie asks, surprised.

"I was allowed to take part in several funerals, during my visits with Zathrian's clan. Lanaya's clan now, I should say. I also have a friend who knows _In uthenera_. I'll bring her here, when possible."

"You seem _insultingly_ sure I'll die" Elf-Morrie remarks, disapprovingly.

"Sorry, but the deaths evenly match the people who lived. In my experience, at least" Mistress offers. _She's right – you're awesome so far, but so was Ree and she didn't make it._

"Hmm" Elf-Morrie shrugs, not breaking her pace. "... Plant a whitethorn for me, I suppose."

 _A what?_ I must have whined that out loud, because they both look back at me. "She means a hawthorn, Max" Mistress answers. "You remember _those_ , I hope?"

 _Do I ever! I only wanted to pee on it, as a pup, but the damned tree jabbed spikes into me the moment I crawled under the branches! **RUDE!** And I lost an afternoon of frolicking, because the servants had to slowly pick the spikey bits out of my back._

 _Wait... hawthorn. The Hidden Folk._ Aw, crap. _No wonder she seems like Morrie! She's another **changeling** , like that stupid Mage-Alistair! They didn't even get the right race this time, the idiots. _I better keep both eyes on her. I hit a rock, and almost stumble. _Okay, just one eye, and watch the path with my other._

* * *

Soon enough, we're back at her camp. Scruffy and Mistress are mixing up the Joining thing, while the others prepare a campfire. "Oghren, was it?" Elf-Morrie asks Braids.

"Aye, that's me."

"I hadn't met a Dwarf, before... are they all like you?" _Thankfully not._

"Only the good ones" he boasts, sitting down.

"And you pray to rocks? Is that correct?" _She's trying to learn your ways, so a Changeling can steal your form next! Make up something stupid, to trick them._

"Sort of" Braids answers. "We revere the Stone – not counting that idiot in the Commons, who wanted to start a Chantry."

"... Which stone?" she pushes. _Do not answer that!_

"Just **the** Stone, I suppose." He pokes the fire with a stick. "It's not a literal one, though. More like the Stone all around us provides life – that part is literal."

"It literally... provides life?" _She doesn't look convinced – switch to something less stupid._

"That's right. When we come out of our mothers, we're all small, round rocks." _No, I said_ _ **less**_ _stupid!_ "Pink-streaked rocks are the girls, and gray ones are boys. The rocks must be dipped in lava for a few moments each day to stay warm." _I mean, that would explain why they say the Orzammar birthrate is so low. And_ _why the city has a massive lava pool in the middle … Wait, then how is that barmaid woman going to have your kid up here without lava?! This falls apart if you think about it! Tone down the stupid._ "Every year, a few unlucky sods drop rocks in there and sadly can't retrieve them. But if you do it right, the rock cracks open after a few weeks and out pops a happy, bouncing Dwarf!"

"... Like an egg?" _I told you it was too stupid – the Hidden Folk will know you're onto them, and eat your face while you sleep!_ "That **can't** be right?"

Braids huffs, fixing her with an angry glower. "How _dare_ you?!" he bellows, before moving to the other side of the fire. "The sodding nerve of you Surfacers..."

He's still glaring at her when Mistress and Scruffy return. "Alright, it's time" Mistress announces, holding out a small drinking tin. _I guess we didn't bring the fancy goblet._ "... Velanna? Are you ready?" she prompts, when Elf-Morrie doesn't respond.

"I... yes. Just confused?" she remarks absently, before standing. _Holy shit, did that stupid story actually work?! No way..._

Mistress gives her an understanding look. "I'll explain more after, if you need."

"... Somebody needs to" she adds, while taking the cup. _Don't bother, Mistress; she's confused about Braids' insane ramblings. In a good way._

"Velanna. From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden" Mistress recites.

"So be it" Elf-Morrie mutters, taking a gulp. _And down she goes... or not. Scruffy moved to catch her, while they were talking. Why was_ _ **Mistress**_ _the only one left to fall over on her arse?! Fucking Liar's idea, I bet... man keeps finding new ways to make me glad he died. If he had a grave, I'd piss on it!_

He checks her neck and mouth. "She'll live" Scruffy announces, looking up from his crouched position. _Where was... ah! Here, let me poke her with this thing!_ I creep up on her other side, and drop a bit of iron scrap I found nearby onto her leg. _No reaction?_ I nudge it around a bit, before Mistress drags me back.

"What are you _doing_ , idiot?" she groans.

 _Good news, the iron didn't burn her! So she's **not** a Changeling, like that Mage-Alistair thing. I guess we just randomly found someone like Morrie, down to knowing weird magic? She casts plant stuff , though, instead of animal bodies. Huh... I guess that should have been a hint. Sorry, Elf-Morrie; I'll apologise when you wake up. And I should probably get you a different name. Hmm. She's kinda pretty for a two-legs, I guess. I do like her hair. But her attitude is pokey and harsh, like Morrie at first. Like that tree she wanted? Hawthorn sounds more like a guy's name, though... maybe I'll call you 'Bramble'._

* * *

 **I was replaying the mine section, and the floor pattern you stand on when the Architect knocks out the party just screams 'obvious trap trigger - do NOT walk on this'. Especially since the Warden has been gone through several booby-trapped dungeons by this point, and really should know these things (I guess Mistress didn't put any points in Trap Detection.) Luckily, Max has just enough genre awareness to notice stuff like this. And I loved the idea of him crawling through side tunnels for a rescue attempt, like air vents in an action movie.**

 **As ever, thanks to everyone reading/following/the like.**


	24. Sigrun's Rocky Introduction

"Max." _Hrmmwhat?! … Go away, Mistress. It's too early._ "Get up." _That just sounds hard – would you settle for me_ _opening an eye_ _instead?_

"We're going to eat the food without you, and you'll be marching home hungry." _The hell you will, Scruffy! I'm gonna eat_ _ **your**_ _\- ah. Well played, ser. I'm successfully awake._

I wander over to the others, where breakfast is indeed ready. _Smells like rabbits. Hopefully they left me some meat, and didn't just stew it all._

"Don't bother me, mutt" Braids mutters, raising his bowl. "Kiddo was the one who said it, go take his food."

"What makes him 'kiddo', anyway? You keep calling him that" Bramble asks, poking at her stew.

"That's what it means, right?" Braids shrugs, turning to Scruffy. "I think you said that once."

Scruffy nods, while tossing me a chunk of leftover meat. _Good, they saved me some real meat._ "I didn't realise that at the time, but yeah." He looks over at Bramble. "When I first came to this country, to be taken to the Circle, I escaped my Templar escort one night and managed to reach the woods. Since I was... seven, that was as far I thought it out. Which left me wandering most of the next day, hoping a bear wouldn't eat me. Eventually a Dalish clan found me. The Keeper fed me, healed my feet, and then had a couple of hunters deliver me back to the nearest Chantry. They all kept calling me 'da'len', and I thought that was an actual name – I hated my family for giving me up, so I just insisted on being called Daylen from then on."

Bramble's quiet for a moment, like she just remembered something. "... This happened nearby?"

"Probably. It was a short sail, so we must have landed at Amaranthine or Highever. Probably Amaranthine, since they handed over one of my phylacteries to the local Templars."

 _Sounds right – the Highever Chant Tree is nowhere as big. The Amaranthine one probably has eighteen basements, full of those phylactery things. That's how they hunt you, right? The Phylactery Factory churns them out by the arseload._

"I would have been mad at the Elves as well as my family, but this one renames himself after them" Braids jokes. "Go figure."

Scruffy murmurs at that. "Yeah, well... when the Templars come to a noble family's house to retrieve a Mage, they knock first. And send someone back later, to clean the door as apology for touching it. The Templars come to a Dalish camp for a runaway Mage? They likely slaughter everyone. Or word gets out they 'stole' a human kid, and the local drunks attack afterwards. I could understand the Dalish doing it – my father was just mad I ruined his chances to be Viscount."

 _If you really want to stick it to your old man, go back to Kirkwall and take over. The way I heard it, the local Templar woman runs the city; so I guess they just never filled the Viscount position after the last guy._ "I guess I could have done without the Dalish kids who found me first. The older looking one started hurling stones and yelling something about 'Shems'" he adds.

Bramble takes a brief glance at Scruffy, before focusing on her food. "... Maybe you panicked them."

"I probably did, with how hard she could throw" Scruffy agrees, not paying attention. _Put it together, idiot; she was one of them!_

Mistress looks between them, and softly groans to herself. "I remember you mentioning that, now..."

Braids has a grin, like he's figured it out. " _She_? Didn't you say they looked like boys?" _Oh, here we go. Trouble._

Bramble glares up at that, while Scruffy shrugs. "The small one could have been. Stayed behind the rock-thrower most of the time, and looked barely old enough to walk. Who can tell what a young kid is, when the Dalish _all_ grow their hair out?"

"You lift their shirt, of course" Braids suggests, making Bramble stare murderously at him. "Elves may be all skin and bone, but there's still obvious differences."

" **..."** _She's_ _ **mad.**_ _Before you waste energy zapping him, Bramble, Dwarves are somewhat resistant to magic. In case you hadn't heard, living out here._

"Man, they were _already_ throwing shit at me..." Scruffy answers. "Your idea would have gotten me **killed**."

"Okay then" Mistress interrupts, clearing her throat. "We still need to get back to the Keep. Everyone gather their things." _This'll be a **fun** walk..._

* * *

"It's certainly... big" Bramble notes, as we pass through the gates. _Kinda – Castle Cousland is much better,_ _ **obviously**_ _._

"I hear a lot of women say that" Braids jokes under his breath.

Mistress is about to say something to him, when Nail steps into view. "Welcome back. We found a recruit." He motions to where Tadpole is standing. _Oh hey, you guys found a Dwarf... does she do tricks? Because we bagged an Elf, and she can do_ _ **magic**_ _!_

"As did we" Mistress replies, looking back at Bramble. "Amongst other things... which we need to _talk_ about. My chambers, ten minutes?"

"As you say" Nail answers. "I have my own discoveries to share, away from ears."

Mistress' eyes wearily blink at that, and she exhales. "Great. The recruit... is she wearing Legion armour?"

"Last survivor of a patrol" Nail affirms. "Sigrun - she fights like a last survivor, too."

 _I like her already. Especially her tattoos! Hello, new friend – you have a fascinating face._

Mistress nods, and we walk over to her. "Greetings."

"Oh wow, it's _you_ " she stammers. "You're taller than Kardol made you sound."

Mistress smiles at that. "Oh, he actually talks about me? I had the impression he was never all that impressed by me."

"Are you kidding? He wouldn't shut up, when he returned with the people he took top-side! How you took down the Archdemon!" _I definitely like you. Especially since you're decked out in this fancy iron-looking armour. Lets me know ahead of time you're not a Changeling version of Chirpy. I've had to be on-guard for that kind of thing lately, you know. Stupid Hidden Folk and their games._ "Made me wish I'd been there. Or when you wiped out the Carta – I had my own score to settle with the bastards in charge."

Mistress offers out her hand. "I'm glad I could help, then. Has Loghain explained-"

"Mostly. He said you'd ask first, and I'm onboard. Or I'll just go back down myself, and find my death like a Legionnaire." _That settles that, I suppose. Let her join!_

"... Right. Welcome to the Grey Wardens" Mistress offers, making a salute. "Velanna?" she calls over her shoulder. "Come on, I'll find you two rooms for the time being."

Bramble catches up to us, while Mistress is speaking with a soldier. "Tell Varel I'll be there shortly."

"You're another tall one" New Friend remarks, looking up at Bramble.

"Thank you? You're... another Dwarf" Bramble responds.

"Or I'm just walking on my knees – the world may never know."

Bramble peers down, mid-stride. "... But I can see you're not."

"Hmm. You must be the smart one of the group" she muses. "Smarter than Big Guy and Thin Guy, back there. The one with the bow didn't have an answer for my riddles, on our way here, and the big guy just ignored them." Bramble just blinks at that, making her smile. "Anyway, I'm Sigrun. Velanna, right?"

"Yes."

"I like that. It's different, so it'll be easier to remember." She hums, and looks around as we reach the guest-wing. "Say, Commander?"

"Yes, Sigrun?" Mistress answers.

"Why's your dog-thing been staring at me the whole time?"

Mistress shoots me a look. _I'm not doing anything! Anything bad, I mean._ "Don't worry" she concludes, turning back to the others. "He's probably just deciding what to call you. Max likes to nickname everyone... long story, I'll explain another time."

Bramble eyes me warily, as Mistress shows her an empty room.

 _So how about you, New Friend? I could call you Tats, because of your face, but that's kinda impersonal._

She shrugs at my attention. "So she wasn't kidding? Everyone calls me Sigrun, or 'Ugly'. Take your pick."

 _Then everybody's an idiot! 'Ugly' was that fat kid Qunie and I stole biscuits from, down in the Bannorn. You're not even close to being ugly! Hmm – how about I call you 'Gorgeous'?_ And she's checking out a room. _Okay, good talking with you. See you at supper or whenever, Gorgeous._

"Max, come on. I need to speak with Loghain" Mistress waves. _Alright, let's go_. Looks like Bramble wants to talk to Gorgeous as well, so we'd better leave them to it. I tilt an ear back, as we reach the corridor

"Sigrun... is it true Dwarves are born as rocks?"

I don't think Mistress heard the question, but she glances back when Gorgeous' eruption of laughter echoes out towards us. "At least the new girl gets along with Velanna... I wonder how she'll take it, learning Daylen can use that Dalish battle magic."

 _She'll probably think we're making shit up. 'No, you see we found a Dalish ghost in a jar, and it taught us Arcane Warfare in five easy steps... I'm not done explaining, where are you going?!' Or Knight-Enchanting, whatever he calls it._

Mistress stops, giving me a look. "Go mess around, Max. I have to talk with Loghain, and it sounds like I need to hear petitions after. This will take a while." _Yeah, I bet. I made the mistake of sitting next to Grandpa one day, when he had to do Highever petitions. Fuck me, that day lasted a thousand hours._

* * *

Well, this was a mistake. _I'm so_ _ **bored**_ _!_ Hmm. I think Scruffy's room is closest. _Let's go bug him for a while, I guess._ I nudge the door open, and find him sealing some letters. "You look bored" he comments, while writing something on the outsides. "I thought you'd be in the hall, for the noble stuff." _Been there, done that. Not today, I mean, but it's always the same... except for Lady Esmethingie plotting against Mistress. Wait – why_ _ **aren't**_ _I in there?! You raised a good point, Scruffy! I shall leave you to your correspondence, and go bite that old hag on the butt if she tries anything._

Scruffy gives me a glance, and stands up. "Hang on. You're still covered in dust and who knows what else from the mine." _Ah, yes; I must look the part, if I'm to escort Mistress today. Scruffy... just this once, I give you permission to bathe me. Let us make this the bathing agreed upon by our agreement from last month._

"... You need to make your mind up, dog. Let's go" he glibly remarks, shaking his head. "I saw a trough by the stables that should fit you."

We get out there, and he dangles a finger in the water. "Hmm... what do you think? Warm enough?"

I poke my paw in. _Yeah, and the sun's out. If it were still morning, you might have needed to magic-heat it first. But thanks for asking._ I plunge in, and let him bucket some more water over my back.

"Some Warden-Lieutenant I am" Scruffy mutters jokingly. "I _should_ be making the watchmen do this stuff for me." _The sentries won't even play with me, so they don't_ _ **get**_ _the honour of washing me! And if they try, I'll give them the Biddy treatment or drag them through a thistle patch._ Satisfied with whatever he's doing back there, Scruffy abandons the bucket and starts brushing me with something. _Yeah, right there above my back leg!_ "Were you rolling in dust?" _Crawling through the tunnels, actually. I was about to rescue you guys, but that prick locked the back door. Talk about rude! What kind of idiot Architect makes a door that only opens in_ _ **one**_ _direction? Aren't all buildings in Ferelden required by law to be Mabari-accessible? If not, they fucking **should** be! _"Coming to save us, huh? That's why you're the most heroic Mabari _I_ ever met... of course, I only know two."

 _Once you meet me, why even bother with the amateurs? That's like comparing Mistress with all those idiot Orlesian Wardens who let the Architect casually stroll in here and kill them._

"Okay, done. Out you get" Scruffy orders. _Wait, aren't you gonna towel me off?_

He just points to a patch of ground, so I hop out. "Good. Just stand there." He flips the bucket over, and sits on it next to me. Clearing his throat, he begins gesturing with glowing hands. _What's with the magic wind?_ Whatever he's doing with it, it's fairly gentle.

"Why are you … breezing the hound?" Bramble asks, as she and Gorgeous approach. ' _Breezing the hound'? I love that expression! Thank you, Bramble... now I just need an excuse to use it in future conversations._

"I washed him, so now I just need some air to help him dry off quicker. It's a trick Anders taught some of us, when we'd wash our hair... trust that vain idiot to come up with it" Scruffy answers, blowing some more wind over my ears. _Okay, never do_ _ **that**_ _again. I don't like tingly ears._

"So magic does boring stuff as well" Gorgeous notes. "I thought it was all exploding things and melting people."

"Depends what kinds of magic you're good at" Scruffy replies, as he starts brushing me. "Just hold still a bit longer – I kinda blew your hair all up on end. Not a great look for meeting the nobles." _Or is it the_ _ **best**_ _look for meeting those snooty bastards? Think about it! … He's not thinking about it._

"But you _can_ explode things?" _She asks the real questions. I respect that._

"Yeah, I explode things when I need to" Scruffy chuckles.

"You didn't ask if _I_ can explode things" Bramble mutters to herself.

"Oh? Are you going to ask about yourself now?! I asked her earlier, but didn't get far" Gorgeous smiles victoriously, telling that last bit to Scruffy.

"... Not yet." _You're not much fun, are you Bramble?_ "Not if you're going to _laugh_ again."

"I was laughing at what the other guy told you! Ug-ren, or whatever you called him" Gorgeous complains.

Scruffy sighs. "Why, **what** did that idiot tell you?" _Is this about the rock thing? Scruffy, you may want to... oh, right. You're already sitting down. Good, stay there._

"He convinced her that..." Gorgeous breaks out laughing. "Rocks!" is all she gets out.

"Uh... huh" Scruffy shakes his head. "Giggling about rocks. So funny, them rocks."

"I don't want to talk about … Dwarven _ways_ any further" Bramble snaps. "Let us speak of the Dalish instead?"

"Okay..." Scruffy offers, as Gorgeous wipes her face. "I don't know a great deal about the Dalish. Only what I'd hear Leorah tell Eadric about them."

"But weren't you using Arcane Warrior spells, in the mines?" Bramble asks. _Oh boy. Maybe she needs to sit down for this bit._

"Wynne taught me those, second-hand. She encountered an ancient Dalish ghost, whose spirit was sealed in a jar, and it gave her knowledge from centuries ago."

Bramble glares at him. "... More nonsense?!"

"That's what they _told_ me happened! Go ask the Commander, she was there" Scruffy protests.

"I've _seen_ ghosts" Gorgeous interjects. "So at least it makes more sense than Dwarves laying eggs in lava to make babies."

" **...** "

"..."

Scruffy spins around on the bucket to look back and forward between the two of them, before Bramble silently marches away. "... Okay, could you _repeat_ that?"

* * *

 _ **I almost added the petitions in, but the chapter was getting long and they'll hopefully mesh better next time. More Amaranthine business, so I'll keep the nobles in one hit.**_

 _ **Thanks to everyone reading/following, reviewing.**_


	25. Making fun of you isn't fun anymore!

_Hey, Mistress!_ She doesn't respond, probably because Varel's reeling off a list. Thief, deserter, land dispute. _Same old stuff, for a day in court._ Murder? _Ah – this just got interesting!_

"Do we have a record of proceedings, from the post-Blight Landsmeet?" Mistress asks.

"I believe I have that, in my office" Varel answers.

"Good" she smirks. "Have someone fetch it for you, please. I'll want that when we begin."

Varel has a quick look of confusion, before leaving. _What are you planning, Mistress?_

Once he's gone, she lets the smirk fade. _Mistress?_ "Hey, Max... you're looking sharp."

 _Yeah, I had Scruffy wash me so I don't embarrass you today. Can't have a dirty escort, out there. But you're looking glum?_ I nudge her hand.

"... I'm okay, Max. Just hoping my guess is wrong."

 _That's an odd thing to want, but don't worry – after all, you've been wrong about **plenty** of stuff! _

Varel returns, giving Mistress a nod. "She'll bring it shortly."

"Fine" Mistress answers, her mask-face sliding back on. "Don't call on Lady Packton until you have it. We'll handle the lesser crimes first."

"As you say, Arlessa" Varel concurs. "I'll head out, to announce you."

Mistress exhales, through her fingers as she steeples them underneath her nose. "Alright. I can, I shall..." _You_ _ **will**_ _. And you'll be great._

"All rise" we hear Varel declare. "The Warden-Commander and liege lord of all Amaranthine enters." _Is it liege lord, or liege lady? Eh. Better question: this is strictly politics, is calling Mistress the Commander necessary here?_

We stop next to him, and Mistress faces the crowd. "Good day, everyone. Let us begin."

"Be seated" Varel announces. _Heh! Our old seneschal_ _ **also**_ _used to make everyone stand, just to sit back down right after, for his own amusement. Some things never change, no matter where you go._ "The Arlessa will first hear the matter of the Crown against the sheepherder, Alec."

A guard brings a dirty-looking guy to the front of the crowd, as Captain Garry takes over. "On behalf of the Crown, I submit that Alec stole two bushels of grain which were bound for the garrison in Amaranthine. When confronted, he confessed. The punishment for theft against the crown is death by hanging."

"What say you, Alec?" Varel asks.

"My herd were slaughtered by the Darkspawn, we were starving... I ask for mercy, Commander" Alec begs.

Mistress gives him a inspective stare. "Our soldiers need those supplies, but they also need people. This man is to be conscripted to the Crown's forces. Accept this, Alec, and I shall absolve your family of further responsibility for your actions."

"Thank you, Commander!" he stammers, as Garry motions for the guard to remove him.

Varel gives Mistress a glance, as someone hands him a scroll. "I believe our next concern is another military matter?" Mistress asks, noticing his signal.

"Correct, Arlessa" Garry answers. "Danella, a soldier of the Vigil, deserted her post and was found three leagues away." _You're the captain of the troops, idiot. This is_ _ **your**_ _problem to sort out! In the barracks. Dragging it out into public just makes Mistress look bad._ "Even if it were not a time of war, the penalty would be death." _Wait, we're at_ _ **war**_ _again?! Fucking hell, I guess Qunie wasn't kidding when he said they'd attack some day! Those bastards move quick, don't they?_

"I asked the _old_ captain several times to release me from my oath. The Darkspawn were getting too near my family's farm" the woman declares. _Oh, I hope this lady's not related to the Turn Nobles._

Her and Garry keep shouting at each other, while Varel turns to Mistress. "The men are afire over this. She's an accomplished scout, but desertion could destroy the army."

" **Enough** " Mistress coldly calls out, making Garry and the woman go silent. "Danella is to be imprisoned for one year. Take her away."

"... Yes, Commander." Garry motions to some guards.

Varel clears his throat. "Next, Lady Liza Packton. The-"

A well-dressed woman paces forward, interrupting. "I prefer to speak for myself." _Nice one, lady. The sheepherder had better decorum than you. Mistress probably hates you already._ "The former Arl, Rendon Howe, made certain promises to me." _**I**_ _hate you already! Mentioning that fucker's name..._ She holds up a letter. "In writing, no less. I was given income rights over the southern bridge."

Another well-dressed noble marches up. "And what part did you take in his conspiracies, Liza? To get such a prize?" _Guy raises a great point, lady._ "Apologies, Arlessa" he says to Mistress. "I am Ser Derren, the owner of the land she seeks. Taken from me, because I was one of the few nobles to stand against Howe and Teyrn Loghain."

Mistress looks at both of them, before turning to Varel. "Seneschal Varel?"

"Yes, Arlessa?"

"Remind me; what was Queen Anora's decree regarding Rendon Howe at the last Landsmeet?" she asks.

He unrolls the scroll, and skims down a bit. " _Any actions, orders and arrangements made or proposed by Rendon Howe after the Winter Landsmeet of 9:29 are to be considered suspect due to his wanton treachery, and may be declared void by official discretion._ "

Mistress nods. "The Queen has spoken. Ser Derren, your lands remain yours." _HA! So_ _ **that's**_ _why you wanted that thing. Well played._

"Bann Esmerelle will hear of this!" Lady Whatever snarls. _Good for her – she'll know not to come around, expecting Toadface's treason bullshit be upheld. Fuck that guy._

Varel ignores her outburst, as he rolls the scroll back up. "Captain Gareval, is the accused ready?"

Garry motions to a guard, by the side-door. "Bring in Ser Temmerly the Ox." _Ugly bastard, if that's him coming now. No wonder they named him after cattle._ "Ser Temmerly stands accused of a murder most foul." He turns to the guy. "You and your men cravenly ambushed Ser Tamra, in the middle of the night."

"You dare too much, Captain – I am noble born, and will not submit to these accusations." _I hate your voice, too. Just so you know. And you can't be a very important noble, since I've never heard of you. He has a point about Garry, though; he should really present evidence before declaring this idiot guilty like that._

"You are accused of _murder_ " Garry repeats for some reason. "My soldiers found you fleeing while Ser Tamra's blood was still hot." _Wait, you only run the Keep. Why were your soldiers in the city?_

"There's a great deal of traffic on the roads. Not all of it _human_." _Well, yeah. Plenty of us Mabari live in Amaranthine, too... wait. Is Ugly trying to pin this on a hound?!_ "And it's **so** dangerous at night." _Oh, he means the Sky Ants! I warned you all about these damned things._ "We were merely in a hurry to reach somewhere safe and warn." _Hmm. I don't trust you or Garry._

"You mock this court with your denials!" _What, you thought he'd confess if you asked nicely? Because that's dumb, and also you asked quite rudely._

"You have nothing, Captain. Release me, Commander – it's this common lout's word against mine." _You're asking rudely too, fat-face! Mistress, can't we throw both of them in a cell?_

"What evidence do you wish to present, Captain?" Mistress enquires.

"They were found with _some_ blood on them" Garry answers, sounding frustrated.

"As I said, the roads are dangerous" Ugly offers. "Neither the guards, or your Wardens, have removed the recent criminal activity in the city."

"Very well, then" Mistress utters, straightening up. "You are free to go, at this stage. Please make yourself available, if we have further need of you."

Ugly gives a half-hearted bow, and walks out. "This session is concluded" Varel announces.

Mistress waits for Garry to walk over. "Have your best tracker keep an eye on him, from a distance."

"Yes, Commander."

She glances over, when he doesn't leave. "Captain?"

"I want my displeasure noted, over Danella's sentence" Garry coolly answers. _Yeah, great. If you don't like it, then maybe_ _ **be**_ _the Captain instead of palming your disciplinary matters off to Mistress in the first place!_

"Understood" Mistress sighs, with an apologetic look. "But I will not apply wartime punishments during peace."

"Between the Darkspawn and Esmerelle's scheming, do you really think _this_ is peace? You should have executed Temmerly as well, Commander." _Oh, that's what he meant by wartime? Hmm, I can see his point._

"Maybe – that's also what she was counting on. I have the matter in hand, Captain. Trust me."

Garry gives a wary salute. "It's everyone _else_ I don't trust."

That makes Mistress wearily chuckle. "True enough." She looks between Garry and Varel. "If you'll excuse me, I need to check on the latest recruit before her Joining?"

We're almost to the door, when Lady Goat appears from her office. "Ah, Commander. I met with the traders you brought in... from _wherever_ you found them. That Qunari seems especially dubious." _No kidding, considered_ _ **where**_ _we did find him..._ "Still, trade has been revitalised beyond what I'd hoped; now that the Pilgrim's Path is secured" _What, already?_ "Considering the treasury surplus, I set this aside for you. Well done, Commander." She effortlessly hands over a large sack to Mistress, who has trouble with the weight. "Sixty gold, to the coin."

Mistress slides her other hand under the bag, to hold it up. "And now I know how much sixty gold weighs. Thank you, Mistress Woolsey." _Don't humour her, you're The Mistress around here!_

"Keep up the good work, Commander, and perhaps I'll be able to teach you the weight of one hundred coin. That's a _real_ struggle to hold... for beginners" Goat _almost_ smirks, before returning to her office.

"..." Mistress groans to her self, before pacing to the nearest table and putting the coin sack down. Shaking her wrist, she looks about. _The room's empty at the moment, if that's what you're looking for?_ She slides the shield off her back, and dumps the sack in the middle. "There. It'll be easier to carry... hopefully nobody sees me carry it this way."

 _I'd offer to let it sit on my back, but you made it look pretty heavy – since your dignity died years ago anyway, suck it up and shield-bear your money._ She stops, and flips it back off her shield. _Or don't? What are you-_ I feel the Warden tingling thing, just before the main doors open. _Of course._

"Ah, good" Mistress waves, as everyone walks in. "Gather around, everyone!" She grabs the shield, and puts it down by her leg. "Mistress Woolsey and I were just going over the Keep's finances. I've decided to give you all a share of our excess, for everyone's fine work under the current mess." _Oh, bullcrap. She just doesn't want to carry it back to her room!_

Braids cheers, as she motions to the chair. "Nate, Loghain? Could you please count out and split this bag into lots of two gold? I'd like to also include our sentries in this." _Damn, now I can't really make fun of you. You're no fun when it's no fun making fun of you._ "The rest of us will conduct Sigrun's Joining, now that Court is over." She waves Scruffy over. "Can you check my wrist? It's still a bit sore from the fighting in the mines." _You're just trying to make me feel bad for my jokes, now!_

"Just in time, too" Tadpole says, moving to the table. "The Wintersend festival will be starting in Amaranthine this week."

"In three days, yes" Mistress adds. "I didn't think of that... who wants to go as my official attendants, and who wants to stay?"

"A city full of drunken Shems? I think I'll pass" Bramble murmurs.

"A city full of drunken anyone? You better _not_ leave me here!" Braids cheers.

"I'm fine, either way" Nail shrugs, sitting down by the coin-sack.

"I've never seen a proper festival, not in Ferelden at least" Scruffy notes. "I'd like to go?"

"Ask me again later, if this Joining business doesn't kill me" Gorgeous jokes. _I **hope** she was joking. Regardless, the mood sucked out of the room and everyone's just awkwardly staring at her._

* * *

 **Sigrun, the moment-killer!**

 **As always, thanks to everyone reading/following/reviewing. You guys make my inane ramblings worth it.**


	26. Mabari Sparring

_You've got this, Mistress! Kick her butt!_ Dodge, leap, smack. Again. _Okay, maybe you don't got this. Gorgeous is too quick._ "Alright, alright" Mistress says, wiping her forehead. "You're as good as they said you were."

Gorgeous is about to respond, when Mistress' shield flies up and knocks her over. "Shit... I should have... expected that, huh?" she grunts, rolling over.

"Indeed" Mistress nods. "Session over."

"She was _almost_ the one to finally beat you, boss!" Braids calls. "No wonder you're calling it after that cheap shot."

Mistress shoots him a glare. "All-out speed is one thing, but I wanted to check if her reflexes had recovered from the Joining. Darkspawn love shield-bashing, after all."

"Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever makes you feel better..." he smirks.

After helping Gorgeous up, Mistress walks over to the weapon rack. Picking out a staff, she checks both ends. "Say, Oghren? You haven't practised for a few days..."

"Hey, now hold on a minute-" he tries to interrupt.

Mistress ignores him, and tosses the staff over. "You and Max again, for old times sake."

"You're **mean** when you're like this..." he groans, picking the staff up. _Oh boy, are we playing the staff game again?! The record is 7-0, in my favour if I remember right._

Tadpole and Bramble wander over, apparently from hearing Braids' complaints across the courtyard. "What's this?" Bramble asks.

Scruffy glances over, from where he's leaning against the fence. "Mabari sparring – it's been a while." _Mabsparring._ "Oghren has to try to land a hit on Max, and Max has to dodge and get the staff away from him. It's eight wins to nothing, all Max."

 _Seven – that time we got interrupted by an angry bereskarn charging into camp doesn't really count. He was genuinely distracted that round, so let's just call it an exhibition match. Which makes my record … *14 (+1, so kinda 15) wins, and 1 loss. I believe that qualifies me for Mabspari Champion status. Someone should carve me a statue._

"Alright, you sodding mutt. Get that gloating look off your face!" Braids snarls, as he spins the staff about to check the weight. _Are you ready? Then let's begin._

Mistress picks up the hammer, and smacks the sparring bell. I rush up, and start twitching. Slightly left, slightly right... _which way_ _ **am**_ _I going to go?_ "Hold still, you little..." I pick left, but run wide before circling around behind him. As he's trying to adjust his stance, I rush straight in and nudge the back of his knee. "Ha!" He brings the bottom of the staff down, trying to whack my head but I've already bolted, so it just strikes dirt in-between his legs. While he's distracted, trying to spot me, I come in from behind again and grab onto the stick. Giving a firm pull, I use the staff to flip one leg out from under him which quickly makes the other follow. Braids gives a shout as he lands on his back, and doesn't even bother trying to push himself up before I drop the staff on his chest.

"Yeah, yeah, you win again... I wish I'd never suggested the bloody idea back then. _Oh, she'll let me whack the mutt around if I say I'll use the old lady's stick instead of my_ _ **axe**_ _..._ "

 _Yeah, not one of your better ideas. Even for you._

"You enjoyed that" Bramble notes, watching Tadpole's reaction.

"It's been a **long** time since I watched a Mabari duel someone" he replies. "You can take a man out of Ferelden, but you can't take the Fereldan out of a man? And it's admittedly satisfying, after the Dwarf beat me up and down the yard the other day." _Gorgeous was pretty close to beating Mistress, so get her to show you some dual-weapon tricks. Chirpy ran out of arrows a few times, during the Blight, so it's a good idea to be able to switch weapons. Unless Kirkwall or wherever you trained had some stupid rule about these things, like warriors not being allowed to use bows or two blades at once. That would be incredibly dumb – thankfully, we in Ferelden aren't bound by weapon-spec nonsense._

"I knew I shouldn't done that" Braids gripes, slowly walking out of the training yard. "It's making this rash even worse... boss, why didn't you warn me the Joining gives a rash?"

Bramble and Gorgeous glance over at Mistress, both alarmed. "I don't have any rash" Tadpole shrugs.

"That's the first I heard of it causing a rash" Mistress answers. _I bet it's because he drank the entire cup of blood!_

"If it's affecting your walk, like that, maybe it's from using that Prickleweed for wiping" Scruffy calls, offering his diagnosis. _Or that. You can trust him, he's a doctor. Kind of._ "Told you it was a bad idea."

"Well, you should have told me louder!" Braids fires back.

Bramble holds out a pouch of something. "Here. We found this ointment helpful, for when we had to march long journeys without rest." _Wait. Where, exactly, was she keeping the pouch... in_ _ **that**_ _outfit?_

"Thanks, you're a life saver" Braids offers, limping away. Once he turns, Bramble shoots an evil smirk at his back. _That's a little creepy._

I guess Tadpole agrees, because he moves back a little. "Um..."

"You get back at him your way, I'll do it mine" she answers, sounding satisfied.

 _Nail, what are you up to? You've barely been watching – you're just drawing something._

I wander up, just as he finishes and shows it to Mistress. "There. That's the best I can get it." _What the_ _ **fuck**_ _is_ _ **that**_ _?! It's a_ _ **lot**_ _creepy!_

Mistress stares at the horrific drawing a moment, before handing it back. "... I think you should retrieve at least one corpse. We'll send it to Weisshaupt, when this is over."

* * *

 _Well, we're almost to the Festival... even if we're going to get there a day early. I'm sure Mistress has her reasons. Been a while since we travelled with a group this big; everyone but Nail and Bramble. I know Mistress said Bramble had to go help him retrieve a body or two of that freaky shit he drew, so that she could cast preservation spells and keep it from rotting... but I think she's also making Bramble do that as punishment for poisoning Braids or whatever that stuff did to him. 'I don't care if you all joke around – provided everyone's healthy and able to work together.'_

Tadpole suddenly turns, leading us away from the gate. _City's this way, idiot! You of all people should know that. It's almost dusk, we don't have time for visiting._

"Are we taking another entrance?" Gorgeous asks, glancing back at the line waiting for the gate.

"We cleared out a criminal base, last week. The taverns will be full up, so we'll sleep in here instead" Tadpole answers. _Or Mistress can go all Arlessa, and demand some idiots give up their rooms?Okay, that sounded arseholey the moment I said it. Let's not do that._

Tadpole lifts up a trapdoor. _Hey wait, what about me?_

"Relax, Max" Mistress says, rubbing my neck. "I paid another week on Kristoff's room." _Oh, okay. I call the bed!_ " **No**."

The two of us sit quietly for a few minutes, while the others are apparently storing their stuff somewhere. _Mistress... please stop staring at that creepy drawing Nail gave you. What even is it? A woodlouse that got possessed by a rage demon?!_

"... Is it even worth looking for him at this point?" she wonders out loud. _The Kristoff guy? Probably not – he's most likely dead, or pulled an Alistair on us._

"Arlessa?" a voice calls, as a guy appears at the door. _Hey, Captain... Person. I definitely remember your name, so no need to ask..._

Mistress stands to greet him. "Constable Aiden." _Constable! Sure, I knew that._ "Good to see you again."

"You too" he nods. "Here for the festival early?"

"And I thought we should make one last sweep for criminals beforehand" she explains. "Anything I need to know, on that front?"

"We've been cleaning up the remnants... but there's been rumours of people up to something in the old Chantry warehouse, late at night. It might be nothing."

"I'll check it out – if it's something, I'll get to see my new recruit in actual battle and not just sparring" Mistress decides.

Corporal Eddie hands over a map, and then a note. "There's this, as well. A rather strange man asked me to make sure you got it... yesterday."

Mistress frowns for a second, before accepting both bits of paper. "I was expecting to hear from him. Thank you."

She sits back down, and cuts the sealed note open with her boot-dagger. The trapdoor opens, but she keeps reading.

"We're all set down there" Scruffy says, climbing out.

"Fine" Mistress smiles. "Tell the others we'll be checking out a possible smuggler base, later tonight. I'll come get you all, around eleven."

"Right" he answers. Mistress crunches the note into a ball, and tosses it to him.

"Burn that for me, please."

Shrugging, he encloses his fingers and makes a brief glow of fire. "Done." _Should have got him to burn the freaky drawing, too._

As he goes back down the ladder, she waves to me. "Come on, we better get some sleep before we go smuggler-hunting." _Yeah, we'll beat those smug looks off their faces! Which I guess makes them 'glers', without that smug? Ugglers. They'll be plenty uglier, once Mistress slams her shield into their noses._

* * *

I let out a yawn, as we follow Mistress through the empty market. She stops, and holds the map closer to Scruffy's glowing spirit-ball. "It should be... that building" she points, to something in the darkness. _I can't tell if it's too late or too early for a fight. Hopefully these idiots are morons, so they'll be too stupid to put up much of a challenge._

Braids must agree, because he yawns as well. "So are we charging in to just bust everyone's heads, or what?"

"Depends on what they're doing... and how many of them" Mistress answers. "I don't particularly want to rough everyone up, and then have it turn out to be squatters or runaway orphans."

 _True – the local orphans are getting more organised. I hope they like that book I stole from the Chant Tree for them, and dumped in their tavern box._

We all gather by the door, before Gorgeous pulls out some metal bits. "Been a while since I had to pick a door... but this looks easy enough." She slides them into the keyhole, and begins fidgeting. "You surfacers would have lost everything to the Carta within a week, if this is your idea of a lock." A few seconds pass, and she stealthily nudges the door open. "After you" she gestures, shooting Mistress a grin.

"Right. Quiet and quick." _Oh Mistress, you know Braids can't do_ _ **both**_ _at once._

We take a few steps into the building, when the door suddenly closes behind us. A confused seeming guy in armour, maybe a Templar, stands there as he fumbles with lighting a torch. _There we go. Definitely a Templar._ "... It's not him" he calls out, as more torches further inside light up.

A scowling Templar woman appears, flanked by two more. "... Warden."

 _Wait, I know you! You're the shouty one who came to the Keep. Right?_

"Ser Rylien" Mistress responds, looking just as annoyed.

"Ser Ry _lock_ " Lady Anger corrects Mistress, but still lets go of her sword-hilt. _That's good, we're all reasonable adults here... but are you_ _ **sure**_ _your name isn't Rylien? Because I swear I met a lady Templar... wait, yeah. Rylien was the other lady Templar, up in the Chant Tree._ I glance at the woman next to Anger. _Let me guess –_ _ **your**_ _name is Ser Ryanne? ... Now I think about it, I once read some stories that had a Ser Rylie in them. Do all lady Templars have Ry-names? Like you have to adopt one, in honour of the Chant-RY or something?_

Mistress lets out a sigh, like she's restraining the urge to say she doesn't care what Anger's name is. "Whatever you're up to here got the City Guard's attention. I don't really care what it is, but next time? Let them know so they don't need to ask _me_ to investigate."

"That would defeat the point of a trap" Anger coldly replies. "It only takes one man to talk... not that _he_ has even caught wind of what we purposely let slip."

Scruffy groans at her expression. "Don't tell me Anders got away from you, again..."

 _That guy again?! Hey, I did warn you to give him **iron** chains. No wonder he Changelinged himself loose and did a runner._

Braids lets out a chortle. "That nug-humping ponce who was at the Keep? You're bad at your job, girl!"

Anger starts turning purple in the face, as Mistress shoves Braids to the door. "Shut up and go..." She turns back to the Templars. "I didn't see him, amongst the apostates _we_ had to hunt down for you, so I doubt he's in the city." _Hey, yeah! If you had this many Templars to wait around inside a warehouse, then why the fuck did_ _ **we**_ _have to go Mage-hunting all across the battlements?! We're not scheduled to go on a witch-hunt until after Mistress gets back from Amgarrak... and I don't even know where that place is!_

"Didn't you catch him in a brothel, last time?" Scruffy asks. "Go try that, instead of lurking in the dark."

"Say, boss" Braids leers. "Why don't we go investigate the brothel for them? It's the polite thing to do..."

"Shut _up_ " Mistress hisses through her teeth. "I wish you luck with... this" she tells the Templars, at normal volume. "If I spot him during the festival, I'll let you know."

We get outside, and I hear the lock angrily click behind us. _I didn't even know doors could sound emotional._ "You think that guy will be in the crowd?" Gorgeous asks.

"Anders isn't a genius" Scruffy answers. "He may have escaped eight times, or whatever the count is now... but he always gets caught in some stupid way. Wandering around a street party, in the Chantry's home city, seems on-target for him."

"I'm going back to **bed** " Mistress frustratedly yawns. "Come to the Crown, in the morning. I managed to book a large table for breakfast."

"That's something, at least" Tadpole finally speaks up. _I almost forgot he was there!_

"Waste of sodding time..." I hear Braids mutter, as they all vanish into the night.

* * *

 **I said I wasn't done with Anders - but I thought I would have gotten back to him well before now. Oh well. As always, thanks to everyone reading/following and such**

 **If anyone gets the Rylie reference, congrats; you've been here _forever_. And read a much better series than this.**


	27. Our side of reality

All good so far, but I don't trust Esmerelle not to try shoving Mistress off the balcony or down the stairs. _Luckily, I've already heard most of this speech. I assume most of it, with how many times Mistress was practising to herself._ So I can ignore it, to stay focused on Esmerelle and her bodyguards. _I mean, yeah; we've got people too. But I can tackle anyone who tries something a lot faster than the others can attack._ _Unless Tadpole threw an arrow at someone, but I hear that's really tricky to pull off... and he's not here anyway._ He and Mistress both thought it was better not to parade a Howe around, so he's visiting Delly while we do this.

"I guarantee all of you, today – we shall endure. Bann Esmerelle and I _will_ guide Amaranthine forwards." _Okay, that bit's new._

We all step into the building itself, as the crowd offers a decent cheer. _Nothing great... you idiots don't deserve Mistress, if that's all the reaction she gets. Or is it because she mentioned Esmerelle and put the crowd off their lunch?_

"I wasn't expecting that bit of flattery, but it's appreciated" Esmerelle offers, unconvinced. _You're lucky she even mentioned you!_

"I save flattery for the vain" Mistress softly replies. "And you are not. A vain woman would have torn down what the Orlesians established during the Occupation, and let the city crumble back to a fishing port to prove they didn't need anything Orlais touched. You made those systems your own, and kept Amaranthine running single-handed. I understand it was making _more_ money than ever, before the Blight."

Esmeralda squints. "Single-handed?" _See? Even_ _ **you**_ _think you're not that good! A sure sign you're crap._

"Considering Rendon Howe was content to brood in the dark, lamenting that _only_ becoming the richest Arl in Ferelden from your work wasn't enough for him, I'll say single-handed. That's why you were the woman I respected most as a child, after my mother" Mistress notes, sincerely.

"That... is quite unnecessary" Esmerelle remarks, before taking a moment. "Since you mention it, I wonder: will you be a woman who _tears down_ what others built, out of vanity?"

"I hope not to be" Mistress answers. _Why are you bothering to be polite? Shove her down the stairs!_

"I'm glad to hear that – you should know that Liza Packton is claiming otherwise, after your decision against her."

Mistress sighs. "I can't blame Lady Packton for that. My position is not so secure yet, that I dared go against the Queen's wishes. Especially concerning a man who kept her imprisoned with magics, for Maker only knows what intention." _Damn right. As if anyone would be dumb enough to pick Toadface as their fool's battle... I'm_ _ **sure**_ _you agree, Esme. Riiiiigght?_

"I won't argue with that" Esmerelle offers, letting Mistress pass. "Will you be staying for the rest of the festival? If you attend the parties, there's a chance you'll run into her."

"I'm afraid not" Mistress answers. "I'm leaving to investigate Darkspawn activity in the Blackmarsh, while their trail is intact. I need to end their threat before I can let myself worry about salons – or Lady Packton's complaints."

"The perils of your two titles." Esmerite adds, before turning towards another staircase. "I hope to see you soon." _I don't reciprocate that sentiment._ "If you survive the pressure." _Screw you._

"So... nobles up here are the same, then?" Gorgeous shrugs, once we get a safe distance down the stairs.

"Worse, I reckon" Braids answer. "Up here, everything's wide open and there's plenty of food. Yet they still betray each other over the last slice of pie. That guy they were talking about? He walked into the boss's house, all friendly-like, and murdered her whole family after supper."

Gorgeous stares back in disbelief. "... And they _still_ got mad she said no to his last proposal?" _Yeah, I don't know what the fuck Packton expected to happen either._ "Wait. They said _Howe_ , right? As in-"

"It's complicated" Scruffy quickly answers.

"Not really" Mistress sighs. "Nate had been gone for 10 years, when Rendon went mad. And Del helped him understand what their father did. I don't blame them for it."

"Hmm" Gorgeous murmurs. "That kind of attitude usually gets someone a dagger in their spine, in my experience. Hope you're right."

"He had his chance to kill her, and blew it" Braids replies. "I guess sitting in his cell, and hearing the Darkspawn raid gave him some perspective."

"So he _actually_ tried?"

"Sort of" Scruffy says. "He didn't plan anything, he just got inside and decided to see where things led after that."

"Well, I'm feeling more confident that following you will help me find death now" Gorgeous jokes.

"Boy's an amateur. Next time we're drinking, I should tell you about Boss and Mac Tir. Now _that's_ trying to kill each other!" Braids retorts.

"Oghren..." Mistress shoots him _the look_.

"Hey, **somebody** has to tell her!" Braids grumbles. "Can I at least say what Elfy threw at us in the woods?"

"Velanna already told me something about that... and also how you told her some nonsense about Dwarves and rocks?"

"Come on, it was funny!" he retorts.

Gorgeous laughs at his reaction. "Okay, it was. You should have seen her face! She was huffing like a constipated Bronto!" _Gross._

"Heh... _hot_!" _**Gross.**_

"So back to what I was saying... am I the only one who didn't try to kill her?" Gorgeous asks, motioning towards Mistress.

"You, Max, and myself" Scruffy gestures at both of us. "Oghren tricked her into a Dwarven drinking contest, after all. The way I heard it, she had to be dragged _singing_ halfway across Orzammar and was nearly dead most of the next day."

"Toughened her up, didn't it?" Braids laughs. "She probably wouldn't have won the Blight if not for that."

 _As if! She was always awesome, thank you. And she'd been drunk before._

Gorgeous looks over at us. "You're all wei-" she begins, before colliding with someone. _Eyes on the road._ At least she bumped into another Dwarf lady. Maybe they can be friends.

 _This lady looks like a Judith? Sorry she bumped into you, Judith. But maybe you and Gorgeous can be buddies now?_ "Oh, I'm sorry- _you_! You backstabbing **duster**!" _That's an insult, right? Braids reacted like it's a bad one, just then. Accidents happen, Judith; no need to be a bitch about it. You're meant to become friends!_

Mistress must agree, the way she's stepped in. "Sigrun, everything alright?"

"It's in the past" she stammers. "I don't think-"

"Name's Mischa, Warden. I was a merchant, until she ruined me" Rudith interrupts. _I guess she caught the speech before. Or people are finally learning to recognise Mistress. About damned time._ "Thought I was doing a good deed, letting her run errands. 'Keep a duster out of trouble', right? Until House Bemot _lose_ a gold statue of their Paragon. Guess what the Guards find in **my** shop the next day?"

"I... Beraht said he'd kill you, if I refused! He needed to get rid of it."

"The Bemots almost had me killed, anyway! You should have spoken up!" _And then this Bearhat guy would have killed both of you. I mean, I definitely get why you're angry, but Gorgeous has a point as well._ "Don't trust her, Warden; that was my mistake!" Rudith rebalances her load. "Now, I still have to make a living up here – out of my way, **brand**." _But... I wanted you guys to be friends?_

"We should move on, Commander..." Gorgeous finally says, when Mistress puts a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah... let's go kill something, after that" Braids suggests. _True – that always makes me feel better. Fine, let's go see if this Blackmarsh is as interesting as they say._

* * *

 _So, **this** is the Blackmarsh?! Looks... boring. I was expecting something spooky, with that name and everything I'd heard about the place._

Braids suddenly yelps. _What now?_ "Sorry! I thought I saw... I mean – never mind."

"Relax, Oghren" Scruffy says, glancing around. "There's no schleets here."

"No, the northern swamp schleets all trapped themselves in the bog and drowned decades ago" Tadpole matter-of-factly informs us. _Well, that's a relief... and a warning to watch our own step._

"Ha ha ha... would you shut up about that?! Sodding comedians" Braids jeers.

"... Schleets?" Gorgeous asks, preparing her axe. _They're a rare and wily beast, indeed. Be on your guard!_

"Oghren's mortal enemy" Scruffy answers. "They'll eat your eyeballs the moment you let your guard down."

"Mine in particular, or anyone's eyes?" she inquires.

"Depends who they're in the mood for" Scruffy shrugs. "Everyone tastes different, after all."

"Right – another joke thing, then" she decides, after squinting at him for a moment. "Like that sign."

"What sign?" Tadpole asks. "I didn't see one."

"Down behind that shrub we passed. _Warning – this marsh is haunted_ " Gorgeous points over her shoulder.

"Hmm" Tadpole murmurs. "My father used to tell us stories, about this place. How evil magic killed everyone, shortly before the Rebellion. It was a great mystery at the time."

Gorgeous shoots Scruffy a careful look. "What _kind_ of magic?"

"Nobody knows – once the monsters appeared, nobody dared investigate."

"But you said those things all drowned... how many monsters does this place _have_?!" she demands.

"The Veil is definitely thin, out here" Scruffy comments. "So there'll be demons at least."

"The what?" Gorgeous turns to him. "I'm guessing it's bad, if it has to do with demons."

"The Veil. It's what separates our world from the Fade."

"The what?" she repeats.

"The Fade. Where dreams come from... also, spirits and demons."

"Right... aren't all veils thin, though? Or can _this_ Veil gain weight? _The Veil is fat, here'_ and so on." _Don't be silly... there's no such thing as a fat veil. A fat veil is a curtain._

"I've never heard anyone call it that..." Scruffy admits. "But _thin_ just means it isn't as strong as it should be."

"Like when your trousers get old, and about to rip" Braids cuts in.

"I... yeah, actually" Scruffy nods. "What Oghren said."

" _The Veil is threadbare, here_ " Gorgeous remarks.

"Darkspawn _and_ demons?" Tadpole wonders. "Today's turned interesting, I suppose."

"Fight with us, and you'll have stories to tell" Mistress informs him. "We used to run into this kind of thing all the time." _Hell yeah we did!_

"The fun never ends, I see" he retorts. "... When Fergus and I played soldier, we'd talk about coming here and solving the mystery. _Slay the witches_ , and so on."

"Well, you're finally doing it" she notes.

"So I am..."

"Hope you don't mind a replacement Cousland" Mistress shrugs.

"I... think he and I would have been better off with you here, regardless" Tadpole opines.

She's about to respond, when a weird howl echoes and makes her battle-face take over. "Keep moving, everyone – _quietly_. Talking just lets ghosts find you faster" she comments, leading the way.

 _Oh, you can't just decide that from the one time ghosts attacked us at the old Warden fortress. Or in the creepy orphanage. Fuck **that** place!_

"Boss is right – those sodding spirits in Ortan Thaig kept charging us without warning!" Braids half-whispers.

 _Okay, fair. Thrice is definitely a pattern. So let's not be stupid, and... I smell **bones**! This way!_

"Don't run off, Max..." I hear Mistress groan, before they follow after me.

 _Look! I found plenty of bones. We should send the fanciest ones to the Palace, for Gnawer!_

"Dragon bones" Gorgeous realises, picking one up. "Amazing."

 _Thanks! My nose knows, after all. I always say that, right Mistress?_

"We should get back to the road. **Now**." _Relax, Scruffy. The dragon's clearly dead. So... what is he staring at?_

"Um..." Gorgeous squeaks. "Is that the thin Veil you mentioned?" I glance up the hill, to where she's pointing.

 _Whoa, what the fuck is that?!_ The air is... wrong. Like part of the world has been torn away, and there's nothing but a floating hole of glistening wrongness left behind. Shimmering lights of evil. My fur is twitching all over, just looking at it. And it's making my head hurt.

"Yes" Scruffy hisses. "Back out of here, slowly!"

 _Yeah – you were right. The veil is **broken** here._

We return to the path, and Scruffy starts taking panicky gulps of air.

"Kid... you alright?" Braids asks, watching in concern.

"... Whatever happened here is **bad**. I could see demons on the other side, just then – I think they're still attracted to this place, and however the Veil was torn." Scruffy shakes all over, as he looks around with bloodshot eyes. "It seemed like they're casting _rituals_ , on their side..."

 _I don't even want to know what that all means... so let's just avoid them things, and stay on our side of reality. Where the only fucked up shit we have to worry about is the Darkspawn. I saw one earlier, but it's dead; so the Orlesian Warden guy can't be far away. Let's go find him, and get out of here before something weird happens with that frayed Veil._

* * *

 **Being holes in reality and all, I imagine Fade rifts cause physical reactions. Especially for Mages.**

 **Thanks to everyone reading and such. Pardon the missing update last week, twas my birthday.**


	28. Anything goes in the Fade

**The First (hereafter named Talkspawn) was eating up the first half of the chapter with his in-game monologue, while not really adding anything, so I dumped and rewrote a fair chunk. Hence the chapter starting _after_ he sends everyone into the Fade. Sorry about the delay.**

* * *

 _The Fade... I still hate this place._ I glance about at the others. Scruffy seems to have calmed down them down, since they weren't with us last time some idiot tried to trap us here. At least Talkspawn had no idea what he was even doing, so hopefully it's easier to get out this time. _Mistress said she needed to check something out, while Scruffy and I helped explain the Fade to everyone else._ It **better** not take as long as the Circle. _Waiting for Mistress to solve a bunch of tedious puzzles or whatever. Sure, **she** got to play around with neat new bodies – or so she claimed – but the rest of us? Stuck in that stupid clearing, watching Al scratch his butt out of boredom. I would have followed suit... but it wasn't my actual butt. Takes all the fun out of it, knowing it was just an imaginary butt._

"... Darkspawn can open holes into the Fade" Tadpole murmurs. "Please tell me that's a new development."

 _Yeah, probably. If they're as stupid as that guy, they probably all trapped themselves here and never passed the technique along. I hope so, at least - a **competent** Talking Darkspawn, ripping open the Fade? Who even knows what kind of mess THAT could cause?! I hope Mistress and I are a long way away, if that ever happens..._

 _Although, Talkspawn being so incompetent gives us an opportunity. We track him down, wherever he ran off to, and suggest he teams up with us to kill this 'Mother' who apparently betrayed him by not saying how the portal worked. Manipulate his ego – moron called himself the First. Even though we've met like four Talkspawn already. So clearly he wants to sound important. Guess what,_ _ **Fifth**_ _? We killed the first three, and that Architect fuckwit is next. So get back in line, arsehole; you're still only Second! Third, if we cut off that Mother's head for you before killing you last._ That will depend on how cooperative he is.

I walk over, side-stepping one of the dead Monster Grubs. _Fucking hell, Nail – you might have warned us they have_ _ **faces...**_ _Left that off your drawing, you bastard!._ Tadpole drilled this one with an arrow through one of its creepy eyes, so maybe it's a good thing they have faces. Lets you know where to aim. Gorgeous is still staring up at the weird coloured sky, so I nudge her. "You alright, Gorgeous?"

She looks down, puzzled. "I guess... but how am I 'gorgeous'?"

I shrug my haunches. "How are you _not_? You're definitely prettier than **these** three idiots."

Scruffy groans, while Tadpole and Braids stare at me. "And now the Mabari is talking" Tadpole replies, disbelievingly.

"I didn't hear you questioning the Talkspawn when _he_ had a whinge, smartarse" I fire back. "Yes, I talked. And am continuing to do so." _Moron! Mistress already explained to you guys how I can talk in here, after I told Talkspawn he's a fucking idiot for trapping us all in here while not knowing how that magic even worked._

"It's the Fade" Scruffy points out to Tadpole. "Just go with it..."

Braids lets out a snort, still glaring at me. "Here we go, again... the sodding dog's in love with someone."

Tadpole glances at him. "What, he tried... chatting someone up in the Fade before?"

"Wouldn't know" Braids answers. "This is my first time in _this_ place. But I'm sure the mutt had a thing for the witch, back when we were wandering the countryside."

"Don't be rude, **arseface**! Also, it was admiration – don't sully friendships with your vulgarity" I snap.

"Witch? You mean Velanna?" Tadpole asks.

Braids squints at that. "What? No, the _other_ mage."

Gorgeous side-eyes Scruffy, making him emit another groan. "... **No**. He means a woman we travelled with, during the Blight."

"That old woman in the city? Wynne?" Tadpole enquires.

I fake an exaggerated vomit. "Not even _close_ , idiot. They're talking about Morrie. And I just liked her weird magic, that's all."

Scruffy glances about, like he expects Mistress to appear if he says too much. "A hedge-witch, from a Korcari swamp. She assisted the Wardens, for a time." _Well, she was on Mistress' side. Al's side... not so much. Or at all._

"The Wilds?" Tadpole ponders. "Loghain mentioned the Qunari, Golem and an Orlesian bard... nothing about a witch."

"Yes, well... it turned out Morrigan was just using them for her own ends. She disappeared right before the final march on the Archdemon, when Amanda refused to help her scheme" Scruffy explains. "So we don't talk about her."

"I thought they said a _man_ abandoned you guys?" Gorgeous asks, unknowingly. _Oh shit..._

As if on cue, I hear the uneven clank of Mistress' armour, like her shoulders tensed up at what Gorgeous said, even before she walks out of the fog "Him too" she answers coldly.

 _Yeah – we **especially** don't talk about Al. _

Scruffy nervously pulls himself up, and summons his magic sword again. "Shall we be off?"

Mistress nods, still somewhat stiffly. "I was correct... so let's find that thing."

"I'm with you, Mistress!" I announce. "Shove a sword down Talkspawn's fat gob, and we'll be back in the really real world. Just like with that stupid Demon."

She offers me a smile, and rubs my ear. "Right." We set off through a path in the fog, as she looks down at me again. "Good to hear your voice again, Max... _Talk_ spawn, huh? Have you named the others yet?" _Yes! She's happy we can talk again! That almost makes coming back here worth it, honestly._

"You know it, Mistress! Our new Mage is Bramble, I already told Gorgeous her name... I think I let the others know, with that letter game last year."

"You did. I'm Scruffy" he notes from up ahead us. "Oghren was _Braids_ , right?"

"Yeah, you two derelicts don't really shave so I'm keeping those" I declare.

"Should I ask?" Tadpole calls out. _Asking whether to ask, is asking._

"I'm... working on yours. For now, you're Tadpole?" I murmur. Hopefully I sound appropriately conciliatory.

Mistress frowns. "Why _Tadpole_?"

"Because he's Toad-Face's kid... I don't know?" I turn to Tadpole. "I wasn't expecting you to come back and enlist, so I didn't put a lot of thought into it while you were in the cell. And we've been too busy since then, so I'm yet to revise it. I'm open to suggestions?"

He squints, baffled. "... Can't I just be Nate?"

"I guess? If you _want_ to be so unimaginative..."

He has no response to that, and falls back next to Braids as we continue on. "Smart-mouthed mutt, isn't he? I thought the little sod was cheeky enough, just with his eyes..." I hear Braids tell him.

Tadpole grunts in agreement. _Fine, see if I change it._ "Was he that way, with everyone?"

"Apart from Boss and the witch, yeah."

"Right, this witch again... what actually happened to her?"

"Damned if I know – just up and vanished one night. The boss admitted to me she was keen on the girl, too, so no wonder she prefers not to talk about it" Braids whispers. _Wow – that was almost tactful... except for your phrasing._

I hear Tadpole pause, and drop his first response. "...Huh. So Delilah was right about that."

"About what?" Gorgeous asks. _Gossip again? While Mistress is right ther... oh. She walked ahead? I'm gonna go distract Mistress so she doesn't hear you guys this time._

She's talking to Scruffy, when I catch up. "You explained demons to them?"

He nods. "Yeah. Oghren said he was going to keep talking until we get out. Insists he can hear _something_ in the distance, if we get quiet. He might have been right – I could sense some unusual magic, earlier. Your test worked, I assume?"

"It did. I spotted a couple of demons a little further along this path, while wandering. They're dealt with now" Mistress replies. "But hopefully we avoid any more of them."

"Agreed" Scruffy offers. "He's not happy about being here. 'Dwarves sleep like the Stone, we shouldn't be in the sodding dream place!'" _Not a bad impression._

"How about Sigrun?" Mistress asks.

"I'm... not sure. She was too busy staring at the green mists and islands to really talk, but she isn't complaining" he answers.

I faintly hear everyone else approaching. Well, I hear Braids. "-Pirate woman in the brothel, apparently. And then _her_. Damn shame, that was." _If that idiot's talking about who I think he is... well, no. I **won't** bite him this time. Because he reminded me of what I need to do, while I can still talk._

"Hey... Mistress?" I begin.

"Max?" She asks, when I block her legs.

"Can you lot wait up ahead? Mistress and I need to talk."

Scruffy shrugs, leading everyone away. _Thank you, ser._ "Max? What's wrong?"

I wait for her to kneel down and check me. "Mistress. Since we can talk in here, I just need to..." I balance on her shoulders, before leaning in for a Max Hug. She awkwardly returns the gesture.

"What?"

"I know I gave you a Max Hug at the time... but I want to _say_ it. I'm sorry about Ree. And you. But we'll win, for her. Just remember that, and also that I'm with you to the end."

She stares at me for a second, before nodding. "Ree... yes. We will." She pats my back for a second, before we both let go. "... I had wondered what you named her."

"Boss!" Braids yells.

Mistress straightens up, and gives me the _let's go_ wave. "What?"

"That Darkspawn definitely went this way... and must be stronger than he looks!"

 _Oh, I'm sure you're exaggerating... holy shit!_ As we rejoin the group, I see three smoke-haired demons scattered around the clearing. All with their heads crushed in. _I've seen this kind of carnage before._ I glance about, warily.

"... Rumble? Are you here?" I call out.

Tadpole shoots me a look. "Rumble?"

"Rumble Bum, the fat-arsed Golem we met during the Blight" I explain. "This looks like her handiwork."

"The fa..." he starts, before sighing.

"I guess Tadpole suddenly isn't so bad?" Scruffy asks him, while inspecting a weird statue.

"That glyph did something to a Fade tear, and seemed to close it" Mistress tells Scruffy, but staring at me. " _That's_ what you named Shale? … You're lucky she never found out, Max. But you're close. A Golem was here."

 _Called it!_

"A dream Golem?" Braids moans. "Hopefully no ghosts make it attack us. The ones in Aeducan Thaig were bad enough!"

"We're fine, Oghren. It won't attack you" Mistress tries to placate him.

"So what do we call the dog, then?" Gorgeous suddenly speaks up.

"Max" Mistress notes. _Duh._

"What _nickname_?" Tadpole adds.

"That _is_ my nickname" I inform him. "Lord Maxwell Aloysius Cousland the First, of Highever, is a bit of a mouthful. Especially since it's officially _of Highever **and** Amaranthine _now that Mistress is Arlessa." _Wait... the First. Talkspawn is trying to steal my_ _ **title**_ _?! Bastard!_

" _Aloysius_?" Tadpole turns to Mistress. "... You stole that from Fergus. I remember him saying something about calling his son that, some day."

She smirks at that. "Yeah – Oriana made it **very** clear they weren't ever using it. So since I was already stealing Lord Maxwell, I figured I may as well let his rejected name idea live on."

"So who's Lord Maxwell, then?" Gorgeous enquires.

"I am, of course" I announce, stretching out to display my full height and splendour.

"No, the other one?" she groans.

"Oh, that guy. Don't know, don't care" I opine. _Still a fun word._

"One of the Trevelyans. A Marcher noble House, up north. Ostwick?" Mistress answers.

"Ostwick" Tadpole nods.

"It sounded pompous enough, since he just _loved_ to strut about the castle as a pup" Mistress rather unnecessarily adds, pointing at me. "As you can see, he still loves to pose and preen."

"It was a very strut-worthy castle" I note, drooping back down. "And you're a strut-worthy Mistress."

That makes her smile. "Yes, I love you too."

We continue around the bend, and Gorgeous points into the distance. "Is that... a village? A dream of an entire place, intact." She pauses, like she's internally repeating what she just said. "... Profound."

 _Huh... I guess that explains why I saw chickens wandering around. That **is** deep. Dream chickens, man. Wow._

* * *

 **A/N: I'm... not sure if Max is sincere or sarcastic with the final line. Both struck me as likely, but it can go either way. Dream chickens, you know?**

 **My head-canon says Alistair was** ** _definitely_ scratching his butt in the Fade, in between escaping his dream and waiting for the boss fight. You know it makes sense. **


	29. Justice By Candlelight

We all glance back and forward, between Mistress and the open door.

"So... do we follow the obvious demon?" I ask. Visiting _her grandfather's ashes, in the Fade? Pig's arse!_

Mistress frowns at my question. "I'm not sure she _is_ a demon – last time, the Fade only resembled real places like this village when I entered someone's illusion."

"No, it's definitely a demon" Scruffy notes. "But you're right about the landscape... someone is dreaming, nearby. Or there's a demon that's been around long enough to have fed off memories, from when people still lived here."

"Does it matter _why_ things are creepy?!" Braids responds. "That woman is either dead or a monster, is all I know. Let's just chop off heads until we find the bastard who'll send us back!"

"I... agree with Braids, for once" I say. "The simplest approach is often the correct one."

"From what you've said, that's how it worked in the Tower?" Tadpole comments, affirming our position. "Kill the head demon, and it ended."

"I'm not a Fade.. thing, expert; so I vote for killing" Gorgeous adds. _I believe the term you want is Fadiologist. Or would it be Fade-De-Camp?_

"I believe we have a consensus" Mistress quips, stepping through the door.

As we pass through another tunnel corridor, Mistress suddenly halts and stares into the next room.

"Mistress, what are you..." I finally hear a scraping sound, and lean around her to spot some bone-monsters shambling at us with apparent ill-intent. _How the hell did they sneak up on us? … Oh! That's what they mean by 'as silent as the grave'? Not that they have graves, in a crypt._

Scruffy quickly steps forward, and hurls a fire-ball into their midst. Tadpole shoots down the survivors, while Mistress shakes her head. "Sorry. I thought of Redcliffe for a moment" she quietly tells us.

"Who's Redcliffe?" Gorgeous asks.

"It's a town, down south" Braids answers. "Booze was alright, but don't touch the cheese."

Mistress takes a breath, before nodding towards the door. "...Well, it doesn't matter now. Let's deal with _this_ demon."

"That's a dumb idea!" I scoff. "No deals. Just kill it."

"That's what she meant, ya dumb mutt" Braids groans. "... Right?"

"No talking" Mistress quietly affirms, dropping her sword and shield. "I'm not letting _this_ demon get a word out. Not again."

"What are y-" Tadpole starts, before Scruffy waves him down.

"Just wait" he tells everyone. "She learnt a few things, in the Circle."

 _Oh? Mistress, are you gonna show off your dream-body powers again?!_

There's an odd sound, and a flash of light. Huh. Mistress is a Golem now. _Not like Rumble, either. One of those big,_ _ **proper**_ _Golems. No offence, Rumble._

We all follow her, as she stomps down the path. I'd worry about the noise giving us away, but this was meant to be a trap; they already know we're here. The gravetender demon is just standing there, mouth half-open. _Sorry about whatever little speech you had planned, moron, but meet Golem-Mistress... she's not interested in your bullshit. We heard it all back in Red Cliff already. And reminding Mistress of what happened was the worst move you could have made._

"... So, you've fallen... into my trap-" it stammers, as Mistress charges.

" **Save it** " she grumbles, in a gravelly tone. _Get it?_ _ **Gravel**_ _ly?! Ah, whatever. Shut up and keep reading._ Mistress grabs hold of both the demon's arms, mid-transformation, and tears the misshapen blob in half.

She turns back into herself, as the scattered chunks hit the floor. Another _image_ of the woman appears. "Thank you, stranger... so long, trapped here in my own weak desires" it echoes, before vanishing. _So... she was real, once; or did the demon want to die? Explains why she picked a fight with Mistress, I guess._

A few seconds pass, before Braids kicks a wedge of bone from one of the corpse-monsters across the room. "... Is that it? We done?"

"Nothing's happening, so... no?" I shrug, glancing up at Scruffy.

"No. It looked like a Hunger Demon" he answers. "They're usually scavengers, picking up scraps from something worse."

"I think this tunnel will come out inside the town walls, if we find a door" Gorgeous suggests. "Guessing we'll find this worse monster up there, if we're so keen?"

"Get the bodies together, destroy them, and check _all_ the coffins down here" Mistress orders. "Make sure nothing can ambush us on the way out." As everyone moves out, I hear her slump down to sit on the funeral viewing platform. "I'll be there soon. I just used a lot of energy , as a Golem."

I'm about to ask who she's talking too, when Tadpole reappears. "Or you're still thinking about whatever _did_ happen in Redcliffe?" he asks, sitting next to her. "Loghain only gave a curt telling about how _the situation went beyond_ what he and Father intended. Eamon's son became possessed?"

Mistress slightly nods. "The demon, it killed the remaining soldiers first and then the servants. Their corpses were let loose upon the town for slaughter. When we arrived, Teagan was fighting a losing battle to save the remaining villagers. I... the demon didn't go down easily. It even tried _changing_ to wear Oren's face... I think his body reverted, but I can't even tell the difference between their faces any more, when I dream about it. I know Connor was a little older..."

Tadpole stares at her for a moment, before patting her shoulder. She stiffens for just an instant, before relaxing. "... You had no other choice."

"I could have **run** " she mutters. "But that's not really a choice, is it? Except for Morrigan and Alistair... I heard you talking, today. They told you what happened, right? Why they both left?"

"He refused to fight alongside Loghain, and was banished. Today was the first I heard about a witch, and the Dwarf didn't say much. For once, he _didn't_ talk" Tadpole shrugs.

"... I'll tell you another time. Let's get out of here" she decides, pulling herself up. "It's a long story, which raises some questions I'm trying not to think about... and lingering in the Fade for too long isn't healthy. Especially not with our bodies laying out in a cursed swamp."

"Yeah" I concur. "I don't want to wake up with an angry crab pinching my tongue. Not again."

"Again? … No, forget it" Tadpole groans.

"Only wish I **could** , man" I reply. "The way the little bastard latched on, I probably still have a scar on my tongue. My real tongue, I mean."

" _Real_ tongue?"

"We're in the Fade, right? None of this is real; not really" I add.

Tadpole squints as he considers that. "Hmm. Tell the demons they don't exist, maybe they'll get out of our way."

I try not to scoff. "Those arseholes? Don't even bother – abstract beings like them can't appreciate my level of mundane profundity. Besides, I tried asking one to _kindly fuck off_ last year, back in the Tower... they don't listen so good, unless you shove a blade down their gob. Bunch of impolite shitheads."

Tadpole tries to hide his eyes rolling. "So was it Fergus or yourself" he asks Mistress, "who taught him his _colourful_ vernacular?"

"Both, maybe?" she responds, uncertain. "Perhaps Nan, or the soldiers. Mother and Landra could also turn the air blue, on occasion."

"I was gonna say Old Man Aldous" I interject. "Grandpa and Mallol are the only ones I don't remember ever cursing." _Wait. Crabs... I wonder what else is out in the swamp, possibly chewing on us. Small lizards, midges... are swamp nugs a thing? Hopefully they all drowned in the muck, alongside the schleets. The only thing we have to worry about, once we get out of the Fade, will be the crabs. Led by their tyrant king, Crab McPincher the Seventh. I hate that guy, if he exists. Even if he doesn't!_

We continue down a new hallway, and soon find the others making another pile of corpse-monsters.

"All clear, Boss" Braids grins. "And we found a door, leading up by the look."

"I took a quick peek" Gorgeous adds. "Definitely inside the walls, now."

"Good" Mistress tells them. "Take a quick rest, if you need, and then we'll end this."

* * *

 _So let me get this straight... according to this ghost watchman, there's an entire gaggle of villagers here. Because their crazy Orlesian Bann or whoever from back during the Occupation trapped them in the Fade decades ago. And a friendly Spirit is also here... okay, fair enough. It's hardly the weirdest mess we've found ourselves in, the last two years. Or is he a watchman ghost?_

"Let's go find this woman" I declare.

We wander through the village for a while, passing the occasional rambling lunatic. And dream chickens. _Man, those still boggle my mind._ One guy steps back in fear, as we approach. "Please! A thousand pardons, Mistress!" _Now how did he know Mistress' name? .. Right, right. 'Don't question the Fade – it's not healthy', like Scruffy said earlier._

As we approach the middle of town, furious shouting can be heard.

"Oh hey, we're in time for an angry mob!" I note. "Nice."

Gorgeous shrugs at that. "I guess hunger riots are a thing, no matter _where_ you go."

"Why don't they just eat all the sodding chickens?" Braids jeers.

"Because then they'll have nothing to lay dream eggs, idiot" I reply. "Obviously."

"Aren't the chickens just phantasms?" Tadpole asks. "Spirit meat can't be very palatable."

"I think those are real chickens, trapped here" Scruffy ponders. "But you're right about ectoplasm. It's foul."

 _Now I think about it, he may be right. If they were just dreaming chickens, surely they'd take the chance to grow proper wings and fly around the Fade. I mean, that's what **I'd** dream of, if I were a chicken! _"On the other hand... maybe chickens don't have the imagination for that kind of thing. They're pretty stupid, after all."

"Max... what the hell are you talking about?" Mistress frowns, before strolling toward the mob.

"I guess I said that last bit out loud, huh?" I realise. _It's weird, having an inner and outer voice all of a sudden. I keep losing track of what I'm saying, instead of just thinking._ "... Scruffy, did you just say you've tasted demon meat?"

He sheepishly nods, as we wait for Mistress to finish talking to the glowing guy. I guess he must be the spirit. "Consistency wise, it's more like soggy pudding than meat. When the demons attacked the Circle, and we ran to the lower halls to escape, I ran out of mana right near the end. There was still a few abominations in my way, so I had to beat them to death with a broken staff head. Some of their gunk bounced in my mouth while I was screaming."

"Ah. Yeah, I know all about flying chunks of people hitting you during combat" I admit. "That stuff gets everywhere."

"... Do you two _mind_?!" Tadpole shudders, sending us a dirty look.

"They ain't wrong" Braids says, matter-of-factly. "Stay an archer, if you don't want pieces splattering on you."

Mistress gives us all a weird glance as she returns. "... **Anyway** , the estate beyond this gate is our target. The local governess at the time was a blood mage, and caused all of this. Are you ready to end it?"

We utter various agreements, as the glowing guy joins us. "Alright" Mistress informs him. "We're with you."

"Then we have the numbers to challenge her directly" the glowing guy declares. _He's like a candle._

"A direct challenge? Heh. I'm in!" Braids smiles, preparing his axe.

"Let's go, then! Lead the way, Candlelight... is it alright if I call you Candlelight, Ser Spirit? You lot don't have _names_ , right?" I ask.

Scruffy squints at him. "It looks like the Spirit from my Harrowing... yeah. Just call it Valor. That's what you are, yes?"

"I am Justice" Candlelight offers, in a rather indifferent tone. _Okay, fine. Have it your way... I suppose we won't be here long enough to worry about naming you. Justice it is._

 _ **Thank you. Let us begin.**_

 _Aw, hell. He could hear me. And that... this bit, too. Shit! ... uh, are you still listening to me?_

 _ **...No?**_

 _Good, great. Let's both focus on our own thoughts, so we don't mentally trip over each other._

Candlelight marches up to the fancy gate, and smashes both sides off the hinges. "Good people, let us take your freedom back from the Witch!"

"Is that her, then?" I ask, as a haughty-faced woman appears on the balcony. _Lovely, she's got two of those toothy dust-things with her. They taste like... I don't know, like getting the smell of Braids' butt after a two-day march stuck on your taste-buds when he's upwind of you?_ "Scruffy, those dust guys taste even worse than they look. Don't get any in your mouth, if you go Swordy on them."

"It was _one_ time" he groans, but nods regardless.

"No eating the ash... thing" Braids confirms. "Wraith? Yeah, ash wraith! That was it."

"They look like they'd eat us, instead" Gorgeous warns. "Are **those** their mouths?!"

"Yep" Braids smirks. "With a gullet like that, just imagine what their ash hole looks like!"

" **...** " I sense Tadpole bristle with disgust, as he readies an arrow.

The Fadey Lady steps up to the railing, sneering down at us. "My, my... all that shouting, and now you barge in? Without so much of the hint of a proper invitation?"

 _Oh. Lovely. She's one of **these** Orlesians. Between all the inbreeding and just plain snootishness, their noses are turned upwards to the point they can tell what the clouds smell like._

Candlelight stomps forward. "Foul sorceress! Release these people, and submit yourself to justice!"

"Justice? Is that what you call it?" she scoffs. _No, that's what he calls himself... I'm not sure which one he means, right now. See, this is why I wanted us to call him Candlelight. Would have stopped us getting snagged on ambiguity, and wondering if he meant himself or the concept. 'Submitting to Justice', pertaining to Him, just sounds like he wants to bed you or something._ "What of their punishment, for burning my home down after trapping me inside?"

 _Huh... she raises a good point._

"You stole our children!" one of the villagers yells back. "Used their blood to feed your vanity!"

 _That's also a valid point. This might be a tricky mediation to solve, but I'll let both sides speak their piece._

"As was my due! You lived on **my** land, I was your rightful Baroness. Your blood was mine, as your lives are mine!"

 _Okay, no._ I step forward. "Incorrect. Let us set aside the legality of your prior actions, for a moment. You lost all claims to this village, and those within it, when Ferelden was liberated from Orlesia. The Queen and Landsmeet have not formally recognised your continued legitimacy, so you need to stand down until this matter can be resolved. Lest you face summary execution for treason... Mistress has the authority to sentence such a punishment here and now, as Arlessa of this district."

I get the feeling Tadpole is staring at me, but I stay focused on Fadey Lady. Who quickly recovers from my argument, her shock returning to a sneer. "... The fools have found a _pet._ You need a mongrel to speak for you, yet question **my** authority. Pathetic."

"We have _more_ allies" Candlelight fires back, gesturing at Mistress. "Your reign ends here!"

"I have my _own_ new arrivals" Fadey Lady says, already looking bored of the conversation. She waves a hand... and Talkspawn saunters into view, stopping alongside her.

"Oh, there you are!" I call. "I almost forgot we still have to kill you."

Talkspawn starts to say something, but Candlelight interrupts. "Enough! The battle is joined!"

 _Alright. Battle it is, then! … Wait. Where have I heard that before?_

* * *

 **A/N: Not counting game mechanics, is there any reason a Warden couldn't still use the Circle Puzzle shapeshifting again? Too bad, if so, because I went with it anyway. Max also busted out his legal arguments again, from Drakon. That skill remains much less effective than Golem Form, sadly.**


	30. Pride Hedgehogs are the worst

_Huh?_ I feel mud squelch under me, as I try to roll onto my feet. _Are we back? I remember Talkspawn trying to run, and then Fadey Lady... right. We must be back._ I pull myself up, and notice Mistress sitting on a rock. _Hey, Mistress! … Oh right, I can't talk to her now again._ Instead, I plop my head on her knee. _Is that the sunrise? Huh, I guess we were in the Fade overnight. I knew it took a while, but not **that** long._

"... You alright, Max?" she asks, absently rubbing my ear.

 _Just glad to be back here. You?_

She doesn't answer, so I glance to check the others. Tadpole's helping the Dwarves up, and I notice Scruffy standing on the hill. Staring into the distance. "I can feel something... she definitely came through as well. Where the village _actually_ is, I think."

Braids pulls himself up, glowering. "Gotcha. Let's finish her off and go home! I've got mud all in my beard, maybe even my buttcrack, so it's time for a bath."

Gorgeous finishes wiping mud off her axe, and motions for Scruffy to walk over. "Come here a minute." Once he approaches, she gestures for him to kneel.

"What's u-" he begins, only for Gorgeous to slap him. _Well, that's uncalled for._ "... Good talk" he glowers.

"Sorry. Wanted to make sure I was awake for real" she answers, making Braids chuckle.

"You're supposed to get someone to slap _you_ , for that" Tadpole notes.

"That might have hurt, though" she shrugs. "Besides, I just really needed to slap a Mage after all that Fade stuff. It's not **right**."

"Yeah, great. Save it for the Baroness" Scruffy mutters, standing back up.

Mistress points to the south-east. "If we follow that trail, the village shouldn't be far."

"Alright then" Gorgeous declares. "Sorry about that, champ" she offers.

"... Buy me a pie, next time we're in Amaranthine, and we're even" Scruffy suggests, still a little grumpy. He guzzles a mana flask, and slips the empty bottle into his pouch.

"Just throw your empties, kid" Braids shrugs. "This isn't Tapster's, there's no Corra up here to smack us in the head for tossing mugs around."

"These are _expensive_ " Scruffy replies. "Maybe the Chantry can afford to throw them out after use, but not me."

 _Wait... did I just hear something scream?_ I look back along the shoreline, west-ish, but can't notice anything.

"Max? This way" Mistress calls. _Whoops!_ Everyone is waiting. _Oh well, I guess it's nothing important._

We're almost at the village walls, when Gorgeous slows down. "We're being followed" she whispers, "but they're too clumsy about hiding it to be a threat."

 _Really? … Hmm. Now I stop and listen, you're right._

Just then, a rock lands by Braids' feet. We all notice, and glance up. To where a man's face is poking out, from behind a slope. _Wait, is that Changeling? What the fuck is he doing here?!_

"Hello again?" he starts. "You really don't want to go in that village."

"Yeah, we do" Braids bluntly responds. "We've got a crazy woman to kill... it'll be fun, you should come along like last time." _I can never tell when you're being serious._

"... Who's this guy?" I hear Gorgeous ask.

"I have no idea" Tadpole answers, as Changeling steps out into view.

"About that woman..." he gestures at the gates. "Good news, and bad news?" Mistress frowns, and motions for him to continue. "Well, _a_ woman popped out of nowhere earlier. I don't think she noticed me, thankfully. Bad news – after the Baroness gave some victory speech to herself, she kind of turned into... well, a Pride Demon."

 _Is that bad? We've killed plenty of demons, so is one more really-_

"Oh, great. Wonderful. **Shit** " Scruffy mutters, rubbing his forehead.

 _Okay, so that's bad._

"Yeah, that's what I said" Changeling nods.

"More stuff to kill. Got it. But why are you even here?" Braids says, stepping forward.

"I may or may not have escaped again, and thought an abandoned swamp was a good place to hide out" Changeling shrugs. "Too bad I picked _this_ one, though. I'd been here a little while, when I started hearing things at night. Turned out to be another talking Darkspawn, so I scaled the village walls and sealed the gate with some spells. The last few days, I'd been trying to salvage a boat, thinking I could get past the Darkspawn and to safety that way. Weird magic last night, which I guess was you guys? And now a Pride Demon parading around the town square, so _forget_ the boat. I'm just going to make a run for it. If you're here, then the path must be clear."

Mistress is pondering something. "... Which one is a Pride Demon, again? I know Desire, and Sloth. Rage are the burning ones..."

"Tall, and spiky" Scruffy tells her. " _Size of a house_ tall. The one I saw during my Harrowing was, at least." Changeling nods at the description.

"Uldred..." she groans. _Oh yeah – the bald smartarse in the Tower. Turned into a giant hedgehog monster thing with horns, just to be an arsehole. A smartarsehole._

"Anyway" Gorgeous interjects, " _who_ are you? And how did you know she's the Baroness?"

"Call me Anders. And I guessed that's who she is – while looking for food, I found her diary. A lot of Orlesian rambling, 'Today I dismembered a dragon and banished its soul into the Fade. Also, madeleines for tea' was the only interesting excerpt. Everything after that was pretty much just gloating about murdering villagers for blood magic."

"If you planned to run, why follow us?" Tadpole notes. _No, wait. Back up... she did_ _ **what**_ _to a dragon?_

"I've been here a few hours, waiting for daybreak so I don't wander into the bog. I didn't follow _anybody_ " Changeling answers. "And daybreak's here, so... good luck, if you're going in there?"

Ignoring him, Mistress waves us over. "Uldred was one of the worst fights we had during the Blight, and this time we've no Litany to help us. So we need a plan, and we need to stick to it. First off-"

"Hey... Uh, Warden?" _Shut up, Changeling. If you want to help, just listen._ "Is **that** who was following you?" I don't know why he sounds nervous, _we're_ the ones about to fight another Baldred. _That guy was a damned pain in my butt._

"Warden!" _What the fuck is your pro... huh._ I blink, as the armoured figure Changeling was pointing at strides past us. _That... can't be who I think it is. Right?!_

Everyone freezes in shock for a moment, as the gate gets booted off its hinge. "Sorceress! You cannot escape this time!" Dead Guy bellows, marching inside the walls.

"Please tell me Kristoff's **corpse** didn't just charge in there" Mistress blankly comments, staring at the broken gate.

 _Oh! So that's who was following us. I... have some questions about this turn of events._

"Ma-" Tadpole starts to say something, before giving up out of confusion.

"SORCERESS!" echoes, before everything goes silent for a moment. "Wardens? Assist me!" With that, the sound of battle rings out.

 _And now Demon-Baroness knows we're here. Thank you ever so much, you moron._

"Andraste Bronadotten..." Mistress snarls to herself, while drawing her blade. "With me!"

 _I'm sorry you didn't get to finish telling us your strategy, Mistress. I bet you had a good one, too!_

We reach the courtyard... where a mean giant hedgehog demon is throwing punches at the angry dead guy. _What even_ _is_ _my life, any more? Shit never got_ _ **this**_ _weird during the Blight... right? I mean, there was that nonsense with the cat demon and Rumble._ Tadpole's bowstring twangs, as he tries shooting Pride Hedgehog in the eye. _Yeah, okay. I'll ponder the sanity of our existence_ _ **after**_ _we kill it._

* * *

Finally, it shuts up and collapses. _Mistress and Scruffy were right, you Pride Hedgehogs are the worst._ I walk over to Mistress, while Scruffy's checking her arm. _Sorry I wasn't much help, Mistress. I tried biting that thing's ankles... but it didn't really_ _ **have**_ _ankles._ It's still more than Changeling did. I guess he realised he had to pass through the village anyway, and stayed to watch.

".. Impressive work" Changeling remarks. _Shut your idiot face. Next time, how about some help?_

Once Scruffy lets her up, Mistress locks eyes with Dead Guy. "... Justice, you're in there. Aren't you?"

"Indeed... when she forced you all out of the Fade, I must have been caught in the spell." _We figured that out already, Candlelight, so now you can just shut your fucking mouth._ _Dead men shouldn't talk! Dead_ _ **anything**_ _shouldn't talk! … And I'm not just saying that because_ _ **I**_ _can't speak out loud any more. Don't mistake my zealotry for jealousy._

Mistress keeps walking towards him, before quickly slamming her sword into his chest. She pulls back, and takes off his head. _Well... bye. Back into the Fade with you._

"That's real nice" Changeling barks. "And I thought you handing me back to the Templars was poor gratitude."

"I should have let an aberration _desecrate_ someone's body?" Mistress hisses, turning to him. "The dead are meant to stay dead..." she quietly adds.

"That wasn't just some slobbering ghoul" Changeling answers. _Weren't you leaving? Go do that, and mind your own damned business._

The others join Mistress' side, warily. "Say the word, Boss. I'll tie this idiot up, and we can dump him with the Templar skirts again" Braids offers. _Great idea, I'll go find some iron chains so Changeling can't vanish out of them this time._

Right then, that sound I heard before sounds again. Much louder than when I heard it, where we woke up. _Please tell me that's not another-_

"Dragon!" Scruffy warns, as one appears in the sky.

 _Of course._

"... Is it sick?" Braids asks, as it draws near. _Maybe. The skin is all weird... oh wait. It's a glowy skeleton dragon? That's... new._

"It's not entirely here, on this side of the Veil" Scruffy answers, invoking his magic sword. _Is it the one Fadey Lady cut up and shoved into the Fade, then? I guess us killing the woman let it come back. Great job, Candlelight – charging in without a plan!_ _ **Prick**_ _._

 _So... Ser Bone-Dragon? I don't suppose there's any point telling you that we already killed your tormentor, and you don't need to enact revenge on us instead? As a 'thank you'?_

We all scatter as it violently lands, with an enraged roar.

 _I don't know why I even bothered asking.. Today is the worst day ever._

* * *

 **A/N**

 ** _I hope this chapter works - I rewrote it three times with different approaches. 'How tall_ is _a Pride Demon?' and 'Andraste's surname/Avvar naming conventions' are, strangely, perhaps the least weirdest things I've Googled for this story. I_** **almost _went with "Andraste H Bronadotten", to complete the 'if we say Jesus H Christ out of anger, do Andrastians likewise invoke Her name?' idea, but it seemed a little too stupid._**

 ** _Thanks for reading, everybody._**


	31. Jettison some jetsam

_I'm starting to hate this Templar woman. 'Waahhh, you didn't bring Changeling to us! We have to do some actual Templaring and find him ourselves!' I'd like to see you keep track of an escape master while a magic bone-dragon from beyond the fucking Veil is attacking, Ser **Rylock**! _

"... Fine. Be on your way, Warden – we'll investigate this 'haunted swamp village'. Hopefully we find Anders is still there."

 _Oh, shut up! If you weren't a Templar, I'd have pissed on you by now for insulting Mistress. You think you're busy, having to find that one Mage you lost twice already? Mistress only has to stop the Darkspawn, kill the Architect and this 'Mother', deal with possible bandits... am I forgetting anything important – oh, oh wait yeah! She also has an entire_ _ **Arling**_ _to run! We already killed a ghost dragon, like 28 demons, and a crazy Blood Mage ghost that turned_ _ **into**_ _a demon today, since you idiot Templars ignored that Blackmarsh place for 50 years. Fuck off with your whiny demands and do your job already._

"Ugh" Gorgeous groans, after the door slams closed on us. "Are _all_ Templars like her?"

"Yes and no" Scruffy unhelpfully answers.

"You think she's bad, Sigrun?" Tadpole also responds. "Never go to Kirkwall."

"Yeah, fuck Kirkwall" Scruffy affirms. "Not even because of what they say about Meredith. Just the entire city." _Not that you're bitter, of course._

"Let's get back to the Keep" Braids suggests. "It's been a long damn day, and that blonde Mage is _their_ problem again. We deserve some rest."

Mistress nods, and leads us away. As we near the gate, a street-kid sitting on a crate jumps up to hand Mistress a scrap of paper. _Oh, a thank you note from the Orphan Fund? That's nice, they noticed all the stuff I've retrieved while Mistress was busy and put in their donation box._

Once we're outside the city, she takes a quick glance... and then hands it to Scruffy. "Burn it."

 _But that's my thank you note! … Unless I'm getting a surprise proper ceremony later, where the Orphan Fund honour my charity work. Alright, burn that mystery letter I know nothing about; wink wink._

Mistress probably wants a bath first, too. She's got mud and dents all across her armour, even after she made everyone wash off all the Darkspawn blood and demon guts before we left the swamp. _I don't think demon bits can infect people, like Darkspawn blood, but she's right. Best not to risk it._ Naturally, she didn't wash her face in the same pond so she's still got some dead insects in her hair. It kinda suits her, but I bet she doesn't care for the look.

"Bad news, Commander?" Gorgeous enquires, watching the ashes drift away from Scruffy's hand.

"Nothing I wasn't expecting, so it's fine" Mistress offers, glancing back at us. "When we return, everyone get some rest. If there's any trouble, let me handle it."

 _But you have Varel to handle it, Mistress. You should get some rest too._ I stop, as a strip of meat drops in front of me. "Eat up" Mistress orders, before biting her own piece.

The others all notice, and slow down to retrieve food from their sacks. "Good idea, boss" Braids cheerfully declares. "... I should have gotten more _booze_ in the city, too. I don't suppose there's any in your pouch?"

She pauses, before opening the sack again. "No drink, but I did find... where is it? Here!" Mistress holds out a small item.

Braids takes it, turning it back and forward. "What's **this**? A baby's plaything?"

"Consider it a start, on that pony you wanted" she answers.

"I asked for a _what_?" Braids murmurs, still staring at the carved figure. "I must have been really drunk, if... huh. You _listened_ to me, when I was drunk?" He glances into the distance. "Too bad it's not a real one, with this hike huh? Just as well – the real ones poop!" Braids bursts out laughing, making everyone else chuckle. _It's been too long since I heard our entire group laugh all at once. This must mean things will only be better from here!_

"I really need to empty this, when we get back" Mistress says to herself, pulling out a waterskin.

"Or you could just stop pilfering every random piece of jetsam" Scruffy suggests. _You shut up! Mistress finds the best stuff!_

"It's salvage rights" Mistress mumbles, defensively.

"Exactly" Tadpole affirms. "This is what happens, when your mother's side were all raiding captains. Fishing up debris becomes ingrained habit." _Are you mocking the Eanraigs, boy?! I will rip the skin off your legs!_

"Doesn't count" Scruffy replies. "That's flotsam."

" **You're** flotsam!" Braids playfully jabs at him.

" _What's_ flotsam?" Gorgeous asks, trying to follow.

"Junk you find at sea. Jetsam is what's washed onto shore... or into her pouch" Scruffy answers, leaning over to grab said pouch. "What else _have_ you got, anyway?" Sighing, Mistress lets him take it.

"... Any booze?" Braids naturally repeats. _At least he restrained from asking, for a few seconds._

"I feel something at the bottom, that might be. One moment" Scruffy says, one hand digging around inside. He produces... a dangling thing. "Hanging soap. Fancy. Did you buy this in Amaranthine?"

Mistress shakes her head. "Found it – somewhere?"

"You're hopeless" he mutters. _Better hopeless than soapless. You_ _ **know**_ _that's good advice, because it rhymes!_ "You still have your own soap in here, too… who wants the rope soap?" He tosses it over to Gorgeous, when she raises her hand.

"On a rope! How quaint!" she beams, holding it by the cord to watch it dangle.

"Now we have... something big." After a moment, Scruffy pulls out a shiny bowl.

Gorgeous whistles. "You could feed a family in Dust Town for three years, if you sold that. And you could probably kill them all, if you smacked them in the head with it."

"It's not that heavy" Scruffy notes. "Certainly looks valuable. Real silver, I think... you swiped this from the Baroness' estate, didn't you?"

"Salvaged" Mistress attempts. "She didn't need it anymore." _Exactly. She owed us something nice, after all of her bullshit!_

"Uh huh" Scruffy coughs, handing it to Tadpole. "Here. You're a noble, you take it."

"So are _you_ " Tadpole notes, while studying the bowl. "This pattern looks Dalish."

"There you go" Braids says, with a leer. "You should give it to the Elf girl... and also see if she wants the fancy bowl too."

"... What?" Tadpole halts.

"Oh, please. We've all noticed" Gorgeous grins.

Scruffy grunts in agreement, still rummaging. _Stop_ _ **doing**_ _that!_ "Okay, I feel the bottle now. And..."

 _That's not a bottle._

"That ain't a bottle" Braids complains, turning back to the road.

Scruffy stares at it for a moment. "Oh, it's... a sailing thing. For checking distance, right?"

"A spyglass" Tadpole corrects him.

"Right. The Circle didn't teach us seafaring, for some reason." _Probably because they didn't want anyone sailing off the Tower island.. and you were being sarcastical, weren't you? Sarcasm isn't wit, you know. Unless I do it._

"Was that Eleanor's?" Tadpole asks, warily. That question makes Scruffy stop twirling it in his hand.

"No" Mistress answers, glancing back. "I found that, uh... down in the mines, when we were scouting the Woods."

"Let me see!" Gorgeous begs, excitedly snapping her hands open and shut. "My friend told me about these!" Scruffy hands it over, smirking as she immediately points it at a nearby hill. "Amazing..."

"Keep it" Mistress offers.

"Are you sure? … Then who should I give the soap to, instead?" she asks, still looking around the countryside through the device. _Don't everyone rush to take the soap at once. Not that I want it, either._

"You can have both" Scruffy answers, when Mistress doesn't say anything.

"But... we're not allowed personal belongings in the Legion" Gorgeous hesitates.

"You're a Warden now" Tadpole tells her with a smile. "It's fine."

 _Yeah, listen to Tadpole._

* * *

 _Finally, there's the Keep again._

"That's a lot of people, out front" Gorgeous notes, still peering through the spyglass.

"Show me" Mistress asks, holding her hand out. Taking the spyglass, she watches for a moment. "Ah. Follow my lead" she warns, handing it back to Gorgeous.

As we approach, angry yelling is noticeable. Mistress marches us around the mob, to join Captain Garry and Varel. "Warden-Commander, you're just in time. This is getting out of hand." _Still haven't learnt how to do your job without Mistress, then? You're worse than the Templars._

"Feed your people! Open the granaries!" one greedy bastard yells.

 _We don't keep the granaries **here** , you moron! You want the City!_

"... Did Father relocate the central granaries out here, to get best pick of the food?" Tadpole asks.

 _Okay, yeah; that does sound like the kind of arsehole thing he'd do... but do you see any damn granaries?!_

"No" Old Man Varel answers. "We only have our own supply here – and we're still replenishing those stocks, after we burnt everything in case it was tainted during the Darkspawn raid."

"The shipments I arranged for, while I was in Antiva, _must_ have arrived by now. And the Path has been reopen long enough..." Mistress sighs.

"Bann Esmerelle" she, Varel, Garry, Tadpole and Scruffy all say in unison. _I told you to shove her down the stairs!_

"You had better say something to them, regardless" Varel suggests.

"You don't coddle a revolt, you put it down" Garry retorts. "Just give me the order." _Wow... steady on, champ. A: We are not Toadface. B: That's probably what Esme wants us to do, to stir up even more trouble._

Mistress steps forward, motioning for silence. Greedyguts tries to keep yelling, but the people nearby force him to shut up when they realise it's Mistress. "That's the Hero!" one hisses.

"Please, return home. You will be fed" she begins. "I have already secured arrangements-"

"When?! You weren't _here_ for us, when everything went wrong!"

"No. I was in Antiva, buying food shipments with my family's own funds. Since _I_ secured the trade roads again, that food is on its way" Mistress notes, stepping further forward.

"... Don't believe her empty words! Let us take the food!" _Bring it on, Greedyguts. I'll bury you myself._

"Have you forgotten who I am?" Mistress asks, moving to stare Greedy in the eye.

"You're one of them Highever nobles" he answers. "You see? Bloody Higheverlings think they're better than us!" _That's not... wait, what_ _ **do**_ _you call someone from Highever?_

"And?" Mistress prompts.

"... And what?"

She draws her sword, and holds it pointed down at the ground. "Who _am_ I?"

"The Arlessa?" someone calls from the back."

"You said it earlier" Mistress adds, looking at the lady next to Greedyguts. "I _am_ the Hero of Ferelden. I survived Ostagar. I destroyed the Archdemon." She steps forward, almost into the crowd. "I have fought High Dragons and Pride Demons; and **I** made them all choke on their own blood in agony. Go home, before I show you _why_ they didn't stand a chance against me. _"_

"... What do you mean?!" _Fucking hell, Greedyguts. What do you_ _ **think**_ _she means?_

"Go. Home" Mistress repeats. "I will not warn you again."

"She's... you're bluffing?" Greedyguts stammers.

Braids marches past me, and joins Mistress. "Any of you nug-humpers ever hear of a village called Haven?" Some of the crowd go pale.

 _Yep, that woman on the left definitely knows the story of Murder Town. I guess Brother Jenny didn't leave **that** part out. _She flees, pulling someone with her as she goes. "They'll kill us all!"

"Don't leave" Greedyguts panics, as everyone abandons him.

Mistress grabs him by the shoulder once they've all gone. "What is your name?"

"... Brantley..."

Mistress hands him a ration bundle from her food pouch. "Go home and feed your son, Brantley. Tell everyone the food is coming. I _will_ find out why the Bann has been remiss in this matter, I promise you that."

"Warden... would you have done it?" he gulps, before she can leave.

"That depended on you" she answers, turning away. He watches for a moment before racing towards the gates.

Garry manages to close his jaw, once we rejoin them. "Well... good work, Commander. Stand down, men!"

"You ordered food, even before knowing the Arling would need it?" Tadpole asks.

"I meant to send it where needed most. I think most of the refugees from Lothering and Wulff's lands are still camped outside South Reach and Rainesfere" Mistress replies. "Another shipment should have reached Denerim, too."

"You Couslands" he groans, jokingly.

"I had several matters to pursue while in Antiva, not just food. Thankfully, all of it is in order. So thank you for that compliment" she lightly smiles. _Hell yeah being called Cousland is a compliment!_ "Speaking of which... Esmerelle's really pushed her luck with this stunt."

"Should have just made her _accidentally_ trip down them dangerous stairs, back in the city" Gorgeous suggests. _Thank you! Exactly what I said at the time. See? Gorgeous gets it._

"No" Tadpole warns. "She had too many people with her, to claim accident." _So we just shove the lot of them. Say they all tripped over each other, and had a nine person pile-up down the bottom of the stairwell. Simple. Oh... you're saying the last few would have had their falls cushioned by the people who already came a cropper? Yeah, I guess you have a point._ Or some smartarse might have escaped, while we were hurling his buddies down the stairs. Plus it would have been noisy, doing them all at once. _Alright, Tadpole. You win. Your insight since leaving the swamp has been quite good... you know what? This is like one of those metaphor things. You've left the swamps behind you, and your Tadpole days; and now you've grown up to be a Newt. It even sounds a bit like 'Nate', like you wanted! I like this, and I'm going with it. Nice work, Newt!_

"That reminds me" Varel interjects. "Bann Esmerelle arrived, with a contingent, earlier. They're waiting in the main hall for you."

"Let her wait" Mistress dismissively waves. "I need to check something with Wade, and then a bath. You should all bathe as well, and get some food" she tells Team Max. "Once Loghain and Velanna return, we need to discuss how to find this 'Mother' and destroy it."

* * *

 ** _Thanks to everyone reading/following and such._**


	32. Last Surprise

With one last glance in the mirror, Mistress puts down her hair-brush. "I needed that bath... I almost feel human, now." _Eh, you look the same as you always do. To me, at least._

She refastens the belt on her robe, and steps into a pair of slippers. "One more thing" she murmurs, opening a cabinet. Producing a wine bottle, she removes the cork and pours into a large goblet. "Yes, I believe I'm ready for them now." _And I believe you shouldn't be so calm. That Esmerelle woman is clearly out to get you. So I'm coming along, and she'll come away missing a few fingers if she tries anything. Possibly a kneecap, too._

We follow the corridor, and soon reach Old Man Varel. "Are they assembled?" He gives Mistress a raised eyebrow and a nod, to which she confidently raises her goblet in turn. "Then please announce me" she smiles.

"... Right." He steps into the hall, leaving Mistress to take a sip.

"Just follow my lead, Max. And don't bite anyone." _Ha ha.. no promises._

"-Arlessa of Amaranthine" I hear Varel conclude. _Show time?_

"Show time" Mistress says to herself, as we push past the curtain. I notice Braids on one side of the podium, and on the other... _huh. I didn't know Nail was back already._ She strides out, and unceremoniously drops into the throne chair. I sit back on my haunches next to her, ready to pounce if needed.

"Bann Esmerelle" Mistress greets, raising her goblet again. "Pardon my delay in receiving you, but it's been a long day and I only just returned from the Blackmarsh." She looks at each person with Esme. "You brought company. Shall I assume this is not a social visit?"

"Hardly" Esmerelda begins, scowling when Mistress loudly slurps her drink. "We are here about the Arl you killed."

 _Huh, that was quick – she already knows we finished off the Baroness. They probably used to hang out and swap ideas on how to be dreadful, so no wonder she looks angry._

"You're still loyal to Rendon Howe?!" Varel asks, from his position.

 _Oh, yeah! I guess that does make more sense. Forget what I just said._

"Rendon was good-" I interrupt with some quality fake gagging. _Cough, cough BULLSHIT cough!_ "-Good to us! To me!" Esmerelita gestures at the others. "And now his death will be avenged."

"Finally you deign to get your hands dirty" Mistress comments, taking another drink. "That business with the riot outside was lazy, even for you. A reminder of who I am, and they scattered."

"Typical Cousland arrogance" Esmerelle snaps. "I'm well aware of what a spoiled little wastrel you are, so don't think you can frighten us."

"You underestimate me, Esmerelle" Mistress flatly replies. "You all should have kept to scheming at that farmhouse. I might have overlooked what you did to Ser Tamra, for a time, if you had." _Farmhouse?_

"... How does she know about the-" one of them asks.

"Quiet, Morag. It doesn't matter" Esme hisses. _Ohhh, so_ _ **you're**_ _Morag! … I still don't know who the hell you are, and I honestly don't care._ "You think we came alone?" She snaps her fingers, and some more figures appear out of the shadows.

One of them steps into the light, smirking at Mistress. "The Antivan Crows send their regards." Nail and Braids tense up, and reach for their weapons. _That sounds familiar, but... **oh**. You arseholes again?! Gonna throw another tree at us?_

Mistress raises her goblet to him. "Well met" she nods, making his smirk widen.

"Now" he orders, making a gesture. I ready myself to tackle the first bastard who comes near Mistress...

… _But I don't need to?_

Esmerelle spins about in place, when the first panicked gasp sounds. As Morag, Ox-Guy and the other two all collapse with slit throats, she tries to back up. Towards us. Nail goes to intercept her, but Mistress waves him away.

"I warned you, Esmerelle" Mistress coldly announces, standing up. "Did you _really_ think you could come at me, repeating the exact same moves Rendon Howe made against my family and I? You dare speak of arrogance, while expecting to succeed where an Archdemon and the Fade itself failed? I warned you; _only one chance_ , and you wasted it, blundering in the dark with such obvious tactics."

Mistress nods to the head Crow guy, and they encircle Esme. "... I _paid_ you! Rendon paid you! Kill her!" she screeches, as they swagger closer, daggers still dripping with her friends' blood.

"I had an enlightening conversation, in Antiva" Mistress declares, stepping off the podium and approaching them. "With a certain Talon of the Crows. You're short on time, Bann, so I shan't bore you with the details, but we came to an understanding. _We are not the House of Repose, we know when a contract is no longer worth the expenditure_ , as he put it. You see, there's no profit in killing me; especially since I just get back to my feet every time someone tries." She crouches down, facing Esmerelle eye-to-eye as the Crows force her to her knees. "It's a shame... I _meant_ what I said, about looking up to you as a child and hoping we could work together. But you chose this path, and failed to realise one thing – you **never** stood a chance against me." Esme tries to speak, before Head Crow lightly jabs her in the neck with a thin needle. "I understand this poison is painless" Mistress calmly assures her, as Esme's eyes roll over. "Goodbye, Esmerelle."

"Do you wish us to dispose of the bodies?" Head Crow asks.

"No need" Mistress answers, standing back up. "The Queen gave me full authority to root out traitors."

"As you say" he smirks again. He says something to the others, in Antivan or whatever, and they all move towards the door. "This has been a quaint _mission_ , if one could call it that. If not for the boredom, I'd almost want to stay in your little country."

Mistress hands him a coin-bag. "May this help you and your cell find excitement quicker. Have a safe voyage back."

He glances at Nail and Braids, then a far corner, and finally the curtain entrance. "No wonder Zevran never returned" I hear Crow murmur under his breathe, when he turns back to give Mistress a quick nod.

One of the others calls out. "You're taking too long, Taliesen! This might be the only job where we get to leave through the front door, in broad daylight!" They all chuckle, as Tal-whatever joins them.

"What just... happened?" Varel finally asks, once they leave.

"I told you I had the matter in hand" Mistress answers, as he, Nail and Braids lower their weapons. "It turns out that the highest levels of the Crows have certain Warden knowledge. In times past, too many members tried Joining on a pretence, hoping to use Warden status to move freely and pursue difficult targets. When most of them didn't come back, the Crows and Wardens came to secret agreements. Because one of Garahel's associates during the Fourth Blight went on to become an important Crow, these terms have lasted."

"But they still accepted the contract on you?" Varel wonders.

Mistress shrugs "Yes – despite Howe underpaying them by neglecting to mention a Blight had begun, that contract still stood. They would have charged extra, if he had told them. _Business is business._ Same reason they accepted it's not worth trying to kill me again. The local guild master and I already came to an arrangement during the Blight, for me to remove mutual enemies, so we extended my status as a freelancer. Since the Talons I spoke with know about the Calling, the compromise was that _I_ now handle any contracts on my life. Howe and Esmerelle's contracts will still be eventually met, when I finally leave for the Deep Roads. I simply have to send confirmation to Antiva City before I go. In return, the Crows and I stopped trying to seek revenge on each other."

 _I followed about half of that, but all I **need** to know is that they won't try attacking you again. So I'm okay with this._

Varel's quiet for a while. "... So Esmerelle lost before she began."

"Indeed" Mistress murmurs, rubbing my head. "I had hoped we might have worked together, but I wasn't going to leave myself open to schemes. Not again. I'll understand if this lowers your opinion of me."

"I... no, Commander" Varel answers. "I remember the Rebellion, and what it takes to survive when surrounded by enemies. Now, you should try to get some rest."

 _And the moral of Esme's life story is: **start shit, get bit.** We should put that on her headstone._

"You heard him, everyone" Mistress sighs. "You can come out now."

Bramble and Scruffy emerge from behind the curtain, while Newt and Gorgeous suddenly appear in that corner Tal-Crow was eyeballing. _Oh right... Rogues. It's probably a good thing I can't do that vanish trick – I would get_ _ **so**_ _fat from all the pies I'd steal!_

"Commander" Scruffy awkwardly salutes, lowering his staff.

"I thought I told you to get some rest" Mistress notes, sitting back in the throne.

"Aye. But then these two came back, during your bath. Gainey insisted we keep an eye on it all" Braids explains, gesturing at Bramble and Nail.

"Stop calling me 'Gainey'" Nail grunts. "But yes. We stored the... Darkspawnlings, I suppose, away safely before making our way up here. It was a safe bet they had brought assassins, but I should have known you'd thought your way out of it." _Fought out, thought out, it's all the same to Mistress. Not just because they're kinda homonyms, either. But it helps._

"More importantly... I would hope" Bramble speaks up. "Are we really just going to leave the bodies lying around?" she asks.

"Good point" Mistress admits. "Varel, please find Captain Gavarel. He can make it official."

"'Guy pulled a sword on me, Captain.'" Gorgeous jokes. "I hope that's not as cliched up here as in Orzammar."

"Esmerelle was hardly subtle in her plans" Mistress shrugs. "As such, we'll be riding to Amaranthine in the morning. To search her estate for evidence, and ties to any other possible allies she had. So everyone, again, go get some rest."

Most of them file out, except for Braids. He plops down next to Mistress' throne, and produces one of his flasks. "Care for a refill, boss?"

Mistress nods, and hands over the goblet. "Something wrong, Oghren?"

"Back to thinking about Felsi and the nugget... I really didn't do right by them, did I?" _I mean, if you have to ask..._

Mistress takes a sip, once he hands the drink back. "I'm afraid not."

"Aye..." he mutters, gulping down whatever he's got in that flask. "I think Felsi knew I couldn't settle down again, even if she didn't want to acknowledge it. You and her both know how _that_ ended." _But she was super insane, and into ladies, right? That's what I remember Mistress telling us about what happened with your wife out in the Deep Roads. Hardly your fault. Those are the kind of things you bring up_ _ **before**_ _the wedding, not after._

"Other Wardens have wives, Oghren" Mistress answers. "Even children, in some cases. You don't have to-"

"It's better for her, this way. She'll get by, knowing her." Braids pauses, taking another gulp. "But the nugget... _that's_ got me torn up. Little one won't understand."

"There's no reason you can't be part of his life. You don't need to be a husband, to stay his father."

"Hmm – I could visit once in a while, maybe write some letters. It's the least a father can do, right?"

He brightens up a little. "The little one might even grow up thinking I'm a great hero!"

"You _are_ a hero" Mistress smiles. "If he comes to visit, I can tell him all about how you helped me."

"Heh heh... 'Sit close, boy. Have you ever heard about the time your daddy knocked out a Hurlock Emissary with a single punch!' I like this idea, Commander."

"I forgot about that" Mistress chuckles. "I was thinking more about how you held the entire Horde from storming Fort Drakon."

"Sure, sure. I'll drink to that, too" he shrugs. "But I just like the first story better. _Ooh, look at me! I'm twitching my fingers and wriggling my toes, so that I can fart lightning!'_ **POW**!" Braids shouts, smacking his hand on the ground emphatically. "Ol' Kondrat slips through his blind spot, and drops that smart-arse before he can finish! I didn't even need to yank my axe out of the spider to deal with him." Standing up, he tips the last few drops into Mistress' goblet. "Thanks for the talk, boss. I needed that."

She waves as he exits the room, before slumping back into the seat and running a hand through her hair. "... I live to serve" Mistress murmurs to herself, emptying the goblet in one go. "That's why I'm still here. Right, Max?"

 _I don't know why we're here_ I admit, dropping my head on her knee. She absently rubs my ear, sighing. _But I'm glad you and I **are** here. We'll kill these talky Darkspawn, and you'll smile for real again. Wait and see._

"I just don't get it" she complains, giving me a one-fingered scratch. "... She had to know, even if she got past you, Oghren and the others after killing me, that Fergus and Anora would have had them all executed. What _was_ the fucking point of this?"

Mistress' hand retreats, and I look up to notice her lightly slap herself. "Pride, spite and madness, I guess. Come on... let's go to bed as well."

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **I really don't see what Esmerelle's exit strategy was, either. Even a non-Cousland HoF still has the monarch(s), several nobles, Orzammar, possibly the Chantry, the army, and the general populace on their side; I suppose there's a faint chance nobody would blink about her doing away with an Orlesian Commander... but yeah. She's certainly no Arl Howe, in the scheming department.**_


	33. Denerim all over again

That buzzing sensation wasn't wrong, I realise as we finish off the Alpha. The city's under attack. Which is going to complicate us searching Esme's house.

 _Quick question – am I the only one who finds this familiar, right now?_

"Just like Denerim" Scruffy mutters. _Oh, good._ "Same approach?"

Mistress stares into the distance, where we can hear the Chant Tree bells. "Wait. Some of the Guard are coming... from _outside_ the walls" she realises. "Have you **abandoned** the city?" she abruptly snaps, when they approach.

"There is little more we can do" the Constable testily replies. _Bullshit! We've handled worse situations. We may not have brought all of Team Max, but Mistress, Scruffy and I saved Denny Rem. Gorgeous is a Legionnaire, so she knows her shit as well. Oh, and Captain Garry's here. We had to bring him, some legal nonsense about seizing Esme's estate and ransacking the place for info._

"What happened?" Scruffy cuts in.

"The Darkspawn attacked before dawn." _Good thing we left the Keep early, then._ "It's too late, Commander." _Don't contradict me, moron!_ "The city is lost!"

He's about to spout some more pessimistic garbage, before one of his men interrupts. "Constable! A Darkspawn approaching from the south!"

 _By itself... well, what's one more at this point? Let's kill it._ I turn to look. _Another Talkspawn, I think. I'm getting_ _ **so**_ _sick of these smart-mouthed fucks! Darkspawn should be seen and not heard. In fact, skip the seeing part too._

"Wait! No fight, only talk!" it begs, shambling forward. "Architect sends message, for Grey Warden." _I'm especially sick of the Architect... and I only met the arsehole once. That was enough._

Mistress motions for the archers to hold, and walks out to intercept this new Talkspawn. "What message?"

"The Mother, she sends her army to Vigil Keep. The Architect sends me to warn you!"

… _So does that mean this is_ _ **his**_ _army attacking the city? Or has she fucked up her tactics, and split her forces to fight on two fronts?_ "You must save your Keep, and then destroy the Mother in her lair!"

"The Keep?" Mistress asks, as I can hear the frown in her voice.

"The Mother knows the Grey Wardens are valuable to the Architect" it slurs. _I... am thinking of several ways to interpret that. They're all creepy. Stop it, Chatty._

"We can still get back to the Keep in time" Captain Garry opines. _We don't even know where her army is, idiot._

"But what about the Darkspawn in the city?" Constable asks. _Make up your damned mind! You were eager to run away, just before._

"They will rejoin the Mother, soon enough. She wants all her forces to destroy the Keep entirely" Chatty warns.

"It has a point, Commander" Garry grunts. _It also has a name, jerk; Chatticus McTalkspawn, or just Chatty for short._ "We can't leave these fiends to march on our heels. I say we burn the city. Destroy it, and all the Darkspawn within."

 _ **Whoa!**_ _Calm the fuck down, brother!_

"Not an option" Mistress coldly responds. "Return to the Keep, Captain. Secure the defences, and inform Loghain about what's happened. Tell him he has command until I return. As the Arlessa, I will _not_ abandon the city."

"No! If you stay, the Mother gets what she wants!" Chatty hisses. _Nobody fucking asked_ _ **you**_ _! So shut your noise._ It goes to move, before freezing up. _Ha! You just got glyphed! Good work, Scruffy._

"We should chain it up" he suggests, lowering his glowing hand. "We can make it tell us _where_ the Architect is, after." _Hey, yeah! We'll gut that freak yet._

Mistress bolts the door, after shoving a now-chained up Chatty into one of the buildings, and returns. "We didn't abandon Denerim, and the odds were worse... I'm going to trust in our soldiers, and the work we've done reinforcing the Keep." _I mean,_ _ **one**_ _of us abandoned Denny Rem – fuck you, Al – but Mistress is right. Kaboom and his brother did a lot of work rebuilding._ She makes a quick Chant Tree blessing gesture on herself. _Blessture?_ "Garavel? Good luck, and be safe."

Garry gives a stern salute, and turns to Constable. "Get me a horse. A fast one!"

He's already gone, as we head for the city gate. Scruffy summons his magic blade. "Suppose it's a good thing, us leaving the others to hold the Keep."

Mistress grimaces. "I had a bad dream last night, about when we found the Keep being attacked the first time; so I left them just in case. Doesn't sound so stupid, now."

"Oh? What, are you Leliana all of a sudden?" Scruffy comments, trying to grin as the smell gets worse.

"Maybe" she responds, steadying herself. "It was _different_ to the usual nightmares, this time..." Raising her voice back to speaking volume, she looks at the assembled guards. "Are you ready?!"

Various shouts of affirmation sound, as some sentries warily remove the outer barricades. "Then with me! For your homes, for Amaranthine, and for Fereldan!"

The first few Darkspawn we spot don't even have time to react, caught on both sides by our group and the scattered City Watch that were already battling them.

"It's the Arlessa-Commander!" one of the Watch shouts, prompting a group cheer. _Do I know... wait, yeah. You're the insolent sod who wanted to search Mistress' bag for contraband. At least he knows who we are, this time._

"Well fought, all of you" Mistress tells them, as they join our group. "Have you found any survivors?"

"Some. We got everyone we could to the Chantry. Ser Rylien and that other Chantry woman, the archer, took command when the Bann's men retreated and barricaded her estate."

Glowering, Mistress glances further into the city. "Of course _her_ people did... then we move on. Clear the streets, and secure the Chantry!"

* * *

 _I don't like this... there should have been more Darkspawn, for them to overrun the city._ Maybe they all pulled back, to go after Vigil's Keep, but my fur is twitching. _Shit, no wonder!_ We round the last corner, nearing the Chant Tree stairs, to find a dead Ogre. _I'm guessing you Templars are the ones who hamstringed it. Hamstrung? … I guess him having both eyes full of arrows helped with that. That's weird, there's almost none in his face. Most of the arrows landed right in his eyes. I haven't watched Newt fight an Ogre, so the only person I've seen be_ _ **that**_ _good of a shot is-_

"Leliana?" Scruffy asks. _Don't interrupt me, you prick! I was getting there!_

"I told everyone you would make it, as long as we held out" Chirpy's voice proudly answers, as I finally spot her among a group of Templars and sentries. _She_ _ **is**_ _here!_

Mistress lets out a relieved groan, gesturing to Scruffy "You helped Rylien stem the tide?" she asks, as he casts that stinky spell to cleanse Darkspawn gunk off of her.

"When the alarms started ringing, I realised rather quickly. Luckily I still remember how things were handled in Denerim" Chirpy notes, as her and Mistress hug "... And Lothering."

Rylien joins them, so I sit back and let Mistress swap information with the two. "Who's the pretty one?" Gorgeous whispers. _You already_ _ **know**_ _who I am! Or do you mean Chirpy?_

"Leliana. She travelled with us during the Blight, basically from start to end. She's kind of a Chantry sister" Scruffy answers.

" _Kind of_?" Gorgeous blinks.

 _She is... was... is? a Sister. Wait, how did Qunie put it?_

"She comes and goes, I guess" he shrugs.

"Your God has... freelancer priests?" _Okay, that's a better explanation than 'houseguest'. Gorgeous just kicked your butt at describing, Qunie!_

"She can explain it better" Scruffy murmurs. _It's okay, Scruffy. I don't know how it works either._

I notice Mistress and Rylien march off together towards the inner gate. _Time to lecture Esme's men, the lazy shits._ Following, I hear Chirpy and Scruffy chat. "Like you never left, isn't it?" he asks.

"You could say that" Chirpy answers. "Waiting for her to _appear_ is even more nerve-wracking than following her into a fight, though."

"Fair point... so why _are_ you here?"

"I joined the Chantry envoy who'll be heading the Temple investigation efforts, in Denerim. She wanted to stop at the Chantry here before we continue on to Haven" _Oh right, the original Chant Tree was planted here or whatever._ "We only arrived yesterday afternoon... thankfully, I had packed my armour. " _At least you got_ _ **some**_ _rest, then._ "You?"

"We're here to ransack the Bann's estate, since she finally made her move" Scruffy motions towards the gate. "Well, that _was_ the plan until the Darkspawn attacked. I guess we're just forcing these bastards to help with the clean-up."

"Finally..." Chirpy mutters. "How did it go?"

"Amanda had out-played them from the start, of course. Right down to the Crows being under **her** contract instead" he replies. "Seriously – if _that_ was Esmerelda's idea of a plot, she shouldn't have even bothered."

"Yep" Gorgeous notes. "Commander actually seemed annoyed they didn't try harder to kill her." _Mistress is right, though. That shit was sloppy and a waste of_ _ **everyone's**_ _time!_ "'How **dare** you come at me, with this lazy posturing?!' Or something like that." _That's not a bad Mistress impression! Well done._

"When you've had four High Dragons attack you, anything's going to come up short" Scruffy nods. "But their scheme was _still_ pathetic, by normal standards."

"Three High Dragons" Chirpy corrects him.

"Oh no, four. We ran into another one in the Blackmarsh" he explains. _This one was a_ _ **ghost**_ _type dragon! … Come to think of it, have we ever fought a normal one? Jerkface at Murdertown said his one was Draste reborn, Morrie's mad magic mum was second, and then there's the fucking Archdemon. Plus Ghosty. Huh._

"Oh, right" Scruffy realises, while Mistress is yelling at the people inside the estate. "Leliana, this is our latest recruit Sigrun. Sigrun, Leliana."

"Hello."

"Hiya... so what's your deal then? You're a standby priest?" Gorgeous asks immediately. _Wow. Rude!_

"I was in training, but never took vows. The Revered Mother I'm assisting is an old friend, and got permission for me to join the expedition" Chirpy politely explains. _Go back to being a freelancer house-guest, it sounds more impressive._

"So is this expedition a big deal, then?" Gorgeous wonders. "If the leader has to pull strings to get people assigned, instead of begging for volunteers like most of these things. That's how it goes in Orzammar."

"... Big... deal? ... It's Andraste's lost tomb!" Rylien interjects, looking back at us in shock

"... That a _yes_?" Gorgeous shrugs.

"That's a yes" Chirpy patiently confirms. _That's a yes, yes._

"Spots in the expedition _must_ be incredibly competitive, since everyone who gets their name attached will have greater chances of becoming Divine when Beatrix is gone" Scruffy matter-of-factly opines. "She can't have too long left."

Huffing, Rylien turns away and loudly joins Mistress in berating the gathered troops behind the portcullis. _What? Her butt's been warming that seat for 45 years or whatever, so he isn't wrong about the old girl._

I hear the portcullis rise up, and the guards nervously shuffle out. None of them keen to look Mistress or Rylien in the eye. "W-" one awkwardly begins.

"Find Constable Aiden" Mistress scathingly orders. "You _shall_ serve under his command, until **I** tell you otherwise. Understood?" _... Holy shit. I don't think even Grandma Eleanor **ever** gave off that kind of tone. That scared the piss out of me, Mistress; almost literally._

Various mumbles of "Yes, Arlessa" are given, as they quickly march away.

"But yeah, it's a massive deal" Scruffy whispers to Gorgeous. "Like if someone found the crypt of the first ever Paragon, and the ghosts of their family were hanging around to tell tales of the Paragon's life."

"Huh" Gorgeous emits. "I suppose that _does_ beat finding Caridin's Anvil, and helping reclaim Bownammar... especially by Surfacer perspective."

 _We sure had a busy year, when you stop and think about all the shit Mistress did._

"Warden-Commander!" _Oh, hey Constable. You can let your guys take a rest, and make Esme's pack of worthless cowards do the work for now._ "A traveller just brought word. Another wave of Darkspawn are headed this way."

 _For fuck's sake..._

"When?" Mistress asks, keeping the sigh out of her voice.

"Within a day, he believes."

"Understood" she nods. "Have the Bann's troops repair and assemble new barricades... they seem to be good for _that_ , at least. Cycle the perimeter watch, and report to me when we know more."

"I'll check with the healers, and help where I can" Scruffy announces, patting Mistress on the shoulder. "Get some sleep."

"I'll double-check on that messenger 'Spawn, so he don't escape" Gorgeous offers. "Maybe help with the barricades?"

"Sounds good" Mistress replies. "Make sure you two get some rest, as well. They must know we're here, and will probably hit hard to stop us rejoining the Keep's defences. If not, and it turns out they're instead part of the assault on the Vigil, then we smash their lines from behind."

"Come on" Chirpy insists, grabbing Mistress' arm once they leave. "There'll be a cot in the Chantry, and you've got that 'barely slept' look about you again."

On our way there, Rylien reappears. Followed by a group of people. "We're taking the healthy ones to the Estate, to free up space in the Chantry" she gestures.

"Good thinking. Make sure to station some Templars in the grounds, and close the portcullis again" Mistress suggests.

Leaning in, Rylien hardens. "... There's more coming, I take it?"

"It's likely" Mistress whispers back. "But we'll be ready."

"Of course" Rylien grunts, with resolve. Turning back, she waves the crowd forward. "Alright, keep it moving."

"Amanda!" _Huh? Who's that?_ "Over here! I knew you'd make it." _Is that..._

Mistress glances across, before rushing over. "Delilah! Albert. Thank Andraste..." Y _eah, it is Delly and Albo! Praise be unto Dane, for watching over!_ Stopping, Mistress points to the gatehouse. "It's great to see you, but you had better not linger outdoors" she tells Delly. _Good point. All the Darkspawn filth and such that might still be floating around probably ain't conducive for pregnancies._

"I know, I know! Good luck with the clean-up" Delly calls, as the group moves away. Albo joins her in offering a quick wave farewell.

"You know them?" Chirpy asks. "They helped organise things, and probably saved most of the people who made it to the Chantry."

"Yeah, that sounds like Del" Mistress answers wearily, before yawning "... Oh. I think that cot is a good idea."

"Come on, then" Chirpy playfully chides. "There's someone who wants to meet you, but Dorothea can wait until you're awake."

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **Chirpy's back! (Shut up. It's my AU, and I'll shoe-horn in my favourites if I want.) I hadn't planned on her reappearing until after the Mother fight, but it fell into place once I started thinking about Amaranthine. Wynne and Shale would have been too convenient, so they're on the boat by now and this**_ ** _is_ **_**it for old companion guest spots. I also get to move forward Dorothea's cameo this way, which is probably a bonus.**_

 _ **And it lets someone acknowledge Delilah and Albert taking charge, without needing to dredge up Howe family baggage like an Amaranthiner would. If Delilah can make**_ **Wardens _,_ _of all people,_** _ **tell her the operation details when Nate's overdue in DA2, she can organise an emergency evacuation. (Or I just wanted to give her more to do. You decide.)**_

 _ **Thanks for reading, following and such. Especially everyone who's reviewed.**_


	34. Truths

**And we're back! Christmas and study got hectic, sorry.**

* * *

 _Smells like morning_ I decide. Maybe once I wake up, I can figure why I said that. No two mornings ever smell quite the same, after all. _No matter. Hey, Mistress; are you... oh, she's already up._ I sit up, checking that I'm not laying on any of her stuff. _I don't think it's quite dawn, so maybe armouring yourself is a bit much._

She glances over, when I yawn, and rubs my head. "Yeah, me too. But the Darkspawn probably aren't far away."

 _That would be typical of the bastards, wouldn't it? Ruining our beauty sleep._ Deciding to leave her to it, I wander over to that book I abandoned last night. _Worthless waste of paper, being all racist. 'Dwarves can't dream, or do magic.' Fuck off! Everyone dreams, they just don't remember it. Like how I sometimes wake up, not knowing I had a dream about chasing something, and find I tangled up all of Mistress' sheets because of sleep-running._ I've seen Orzammar... it may be a shit-hole, but they know a thing or two about art. _If they didn't have enough imagination to dream, explain how Fartisan Bob was creative enough to make the wall-carving that farts on you. Checkmate, heretics!_

Wait, it says here they can't do magic **because** they don't dream.

 _Well, that's still pigcrap. I dream all the time, and I don't do magic... or_ _ **do**_ _I?!_

Stare

 _Stare..._

 _ **STARE.**_

"... Max, what the hell are you doing?" Mistress asks, finally glancing up at my determined gaze.

 _Just proving this book is a load of horseshit. I thought about it real hard, and even tried clenching, flexing (plus some weird new muscle thing I've never felt before) and shaking my butt, but I still couldn't create a magic wind to fix your bed-hair. Books are just the fruit of liar-trees, you know; and this one especially didn't stand up to my thorough peer review process._

"Whatever..." she sighs, while adjusting her last vambrace.

 _Even the bloody Darkspawn can do magic, and they have zero imagination. Plus the stupid talking cat in Honnleath had tricks. That fucking cat, I swear to Dane... The Dwarves simply don't send their mages topside, and there's no Templars down there to argue, so the Chant Tree just_ _ **think**_ _Dwarves don't do magic. I bet that's it._

"We should do a quick inspection, while there's still time" Mistress considers. _Nah, wait until light. I checked on Bann Esme's estate, and the townspeople, at some point last night. I couldn't sleep, so I snuck over. Good news about that: I managed to find one of Esmethingie's wardrobes. Pulled out a pair of her riding boots, and humped the polish off them._ Honestly, I don't know how the noise didn't wake anyone up. _As a bonus, it means I can focus on the battle today. It's too bad you don't hump boots and stuff, Mistress._ I glance about. _I... I could go steal you some slippers, from a Sister? Just say the word._

There's a knock on the door, and some fancy-looking Sister enters.

 _Good morrow, milady... I'm not up to anything perversive! So get off my back with your unfounded allegations, alright?_

"Is it time?" Mistress worries, going to stand up.

"Not that I've heard" Fancy Sister answers. "Please, sit" she motions.

Mistress and her exchange curious looks, before Mistress nods. "Ah. You must be _her_."

" _Her_?"

 _Her?! As in Draste? … I thought she'd look older. And be burned to a crisp._

"You're the Mother who saved Leliana, aren't you" Mistress replies. "Mother Dorothea?" _Oh. Some other Her._

Mother _Her_ sighs with exasperation. "Hardly. I merely gave her an encouraging nudge, spiritually speaking."

 _You shoved her... with a ghost? Great,_ _ **this**_ _one's possessed too! You better not be another Wynne, lady, with a sanctimonious Faith spirit. Or that fucking Justice creep. I want to meet a Spirit of Humour; you just know they have_ _ **all**_ _the best jokes!_

"I'm guessing that's not what you want to talk about?" Mistress offers, moving across and gesturing for Her to sit as well.

"I was hoping to meet you, while we stopped in Amaranthine" Dottie – _yeah, I like that –_ begins. _I mean, of course she did. Mistress is awesome._

"Such as I am" Mistress coughs, awkwardly. "I imagine I don't live up to whatever you've heard.

"I _have_ heard a lot about you, I admit" Dottie smiles. "Especially from Leliana; and she predicted you'd say something self-deprecatory." _That's our Chirpy._ "The Cathedral in Denerim also has amassed quite a collection, concerning you."

Mistress stiffens. "... Of course they have."

"That offends you?" Dottie asks, seeing her reaction. "The letter from Brother... Burkel was quite gushing. All about how you _marched into the blackest depths of the world, and stayed true where the greatest mind of Orzammar faltered, to crown a King and restore the city._ That was the gist of it, at least. He's rather magniloquent on paper."

 _Wait, who the fu- sorry, Mother Dottie! I mean, who in botheration is Burkel? I don't remember meeting a Chant Tree guy down there._ I take another peek at her, sitting all composed. _Yeah, best not to curse around her. Dottie seems like the real deal for Mothers._

Mistress fidgets a little. "I... just stuff like that, then?"

"Yes, just minor accounts about how you saved Thedas" Dottie lightly jests. _I like you, Dottie. You keep it real, instead of getting all star-struck._

"... So no dossier on how best to get rid of me?" Mistress finally asks.

"Why would-"

"Sorry. The Wardens had their doubts, and I only just put down some rebellious nobles; so I wouldn't have been surprised if the Grand Cleric planned to pull a Meredith on me as well, at this rate."

" _A Meredith_?"

"Kirkwall's only a short crossing from here, so the Chantry seizing control was cause for concern amongst the nobility for a long time" Mistress explains. "... A lot of the Landsmeet were still suspicious, after how the Divine and the local Clerics sided with Meghren during the Occupation. Hearing about the Kirkwall mutiny reopened those wounds." _Yep – I remember more than a few guests being snide, when they learnt Mum Mallol was allowed to sleep in the Castle. Eleanor usually calmed them by claiming Mistress and Furgus needed closer guidance than most children. It's not like her and I showed up to_ _ **every**_ _meal, coated in mud._

"... Ah" this time Dottie fidgets. "It was a bit more complicated than a _mutiny_ , and she relinquished control." _Who, Meredith? That's not the way I hear it._

Mistress chuckles. "Sorry. Mother's family were sailors, certain terms are stuck in my head."

After a moment, Dottie breaks the silence. "I hadn't heard of a rebellion, when I arrived."

"You wouldn't have, no... we were keeping it hushed, until the leader's estate could be searched. That was why I arrived in – well, not in time for everyone."

"You were still here when they needed you."

"Was I? The Darkspawn regrouped while I was abroad, and slaughtered the Wardens who were waiting for me. Then I let the nobles plot and murder someone who wanted to help me because I was too busy blindly searching for the Darkspawn... and yet they still marched on the city under my nose." Mistress grunts in frustration. "I'm not much of a Commander or an Arlessa, so far."

Dottie pushes Mistress back down with a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Oh, child. You blame yourself even more than Leliana. It's true, what they say – the truest hearts know the most doubt."

Mistress' jaw falters, like she can't decide if to push away Dottie's hand. "My heart is hardly true" she scoffs.

"No? You stood against the corrupt and the wicked, and did not falter. You walked through the Maker's flames, and held the Sacred Ashes" Dottie says, almost like she's berating Mistress. "I think my original reason for wanting to meet you was a good one, indeed."

"Reason?"

"I'm to oversee the recovery efforts at the Temple, and I was hoping you'd at least visit... once the Darkspawn are routed again, of course" Dottie offers.

Mistress sighs, and lets her shoulders slump. "... I doubt I'd be allowed back through, by the Guardian or the Maker. You skipped the end. _In their blood, the Maker's will is written_? I failed that part." She shudders, before turning to face Dottie and I. "... I shouldn't _be_ here. The Warden who slays the Archdemon... they die. The other four all did, like I **should** have." _WHAT?!_ _ **That's**_ _what Perv's secretive bullshit at the Landsmeet was about?!_ I rush over, and jump on the bed between Mistress and the wall. She wraps an arm around me, as I lick at her. "... Sorry, Max. I didn't know how to say it at the time." _It's Liar's fault, not yours! EVERYTHING was fu- that bastard Liar's fault!_

"I don't understand..." Dottie attempts to interject, over my yelps.

"The Blight is the Maker's judgement, after all – of course there's a price to pay for thwarting it" Mistress offers, wiping her face. "... There was an apostate, travelling with us. S-she... well, short answer is that she claimed to know a way that the Archdemon could be killed without a Warden dying. Some kind of blood magic, I believe. When I refused, she found a Warden who had abandoned the battle and _he_ agreed to help her ritual." _AL saved you?! I'm still_ _ **mad**_ _at him, but I guess I owe that gobsh- wastrel, an apology._

"So I'm still here, despite it all... and Amaranthine is on fire because of me. Would it be hubris, if I said this madness is all because the Maker has it in for me?" Mistress wonders.

"I think that if you _really_ believed that, you would have found your own ending" Dottie cautiously notes. "Therefore?"

"... No" Mistress admits, letting out a breath. "There's a powerful Darkspawn mage at the centre of everything, and the Warden-Commander before me battled it years ago. It's been healing and preparing for a long time now. If I hadn't been approved by Weisshaupt, the nobles would have gone after an Orlesian Commander just the same. I just..." _Need to place an identity on the mounting sorrows and problems before you, even if it's the reflection in the mirror? I get it. But don't. Firstly; you're awesome. Don't apologise, and don't go looking for forgiveness from others. Because you're awesome, only yourself can give you that. Secondish; everyone else who warrants a mention loves you. Thirdesque; Esmemerald and Arky started this fight. One down, one to go punch in the stupid face!_

"I know" Dottie reassures her, before smiling at me. _What?_ "So does he, by the look. If I understand right, Mabari hounds are unflinchingly loyal... _if_ they decide someone's worthy to be their master." I lick Mistress' face in affirmation. _See? Dottie gets it! When I say you're awesome, everyone else can shut up. Even your head-voices. They're liars, what do they know?!_ "Just like Our Lady's Mabari, as the tale goes" she adds.

That makes Mistress chuckle. "Aren't you supposed to deny **that** song, on behalf of the Chantry?" _Please do. I'm so sick of hearing it._

"Perhaps – but if Leliana told you our story, you should already know I'm an outlier on some things. But I want you to also know what _I_ told _her_ ; you're allowed to move forward. The past only controls you if you let it."

Mistress nods, before bells start sounding outside. "I guess it's time. Stay safe, Mother Dorothea."

"And you. I wish you well, in deciding what to do next."

"What I always do" Mistress answers, sliding her helmet on. "I shall endure..."

I give Dottie a glance, before we leave the side-room. _I like your style... and I'm hoping Scruffy's right about the Murdertown mission giving you a Divinity score boost. You'd have my vote!_

* * *

 **Yay Dorothea - or the Max version of her, if she's not canon enough.**

 **Thanks for reading and such.**


	35. Templar Pete saves the day!

_Well, shit._ We barely make it outside, before Mistress' blade cuts down an arsehole Darkspawn. Chirpy and some Templars were already fighting this lot, but I still suspect these Darkspawn were camped out here waiting for us. _I suppose it doesn't really matter_ I decide, pouncing a Genlock idiot while he's trying to reload his crossbow and slamming him face-first onto a garden tile. _I saw that, you bastard. You're lucky Mistress blocked that with her shield... or I might have killed you twice? Look, I would have done_ _ **something**_ _worse to you._ Templar... Pete, probably, mustn't have heard the head squelch upon contact, because he quickly stabs the Genlock's body anyway. _No, no, it's better to be sure about these things. Good looking out, Pete!_ I bark in approval, which apparently prompts Pete's free hand to sneakily rub my ear while Mistress and the others check the remaining Darkspawn corpses.

Satisfied, Mistress glares out into thin air. _I'm confused, too. Where_ _ **are**_ _the pricks?!_

"... The service tunnels" she murmurs, turning towards the tavern. _Oh yeah, the smuggling hidey-hole. Too bad the city's on top, we can't just throw in one of King Kaboom's bombs. I mean, we_ _ **could**_ _... no, Mistress probably won't agree to that. This place is already going to need a shitload of repairs, without sinking half the buildings on their stupid heads._

Some of the Templars surround the doors into the Chant Tree, but Chirpy and the rest move to follow us. _Good idea, since there's no sign of Scruffy or Gorgeous. Hey wait! Damn, Pete's staying... oh well. Pete, I'm leaving you in command here. Keep the idiots from getting inside. You lot, with me! Hopefully you can all fight, and ear scratch, half as good as Pete._

"You're coming too?" Mistress asks, as Chirpy moves to walk alongside her.

"They know what they're doing" she replies. "So, did you speak with Dorothea?"

"She somehow got me to do most of the speaking" Mistress answers. "I see why you like her."

"Good, good" Chirpy nods. "I knew she'd help you."

"... Yeah, I think she did. Ask me again when this is over."

We're halfway to the tavern, when I hear armour clanking and someone shouting. "Boss! There you are!"

 _Yes! Gorgeous is still alive.. where the hell were you?!_

"Sigrun" Mistress calls back, letting herself relax a little. "Nobody knew where you were."

"Sorry! I woke up before the sun-dawn, and the scouts hadn't seen anything yet, so I went down to the wharfs to see the boats... but apparently they're all gone. Had to race back, when the bells started."

" _All_ the boats are gone?" Chirpy frowns.

"Yes – the locals got sick of waiting for Esmerelle or I to provide food, and assembled themselves a flotilla to go fishing up and down the coast en masse" Mistress sighs. _Hey, you're not the Bann! It was her damned responsibility. One more reason she's dead and won't be missed._ "One of the nobles still in the city complained to me about his private boat being _stolen_." _What a moron. I hope you punched him._ "Or I would have gotten people out to sea, with those boats yesterday..."

Gorgeous glances about. "Hey wait, where's Fire-Fingers?"

"He went to help secure the gate, I believe" Chirpy answers. "Before we knew they were already inside..."

"Good. He can do more there, than in these tunnels" Mistress notes, as she looks back at the Templars. "They likely have at least one Emissary commanding them. Look for fancier armour, or a staff. Any of you not engaged in combat, Smite that bastard into the dirt!"

They all grunt in agreement, while raising their swords. _Hmm... I'd still like some more City Guards with us, but they must be with Scruffy. I guess you non-Pete Templars will suffice._

We step inside, and sure enough the Darkspawn are waiting. _YES!_ I immediately smash the nearest Hurlock down through a table. _I'm finally getting my tavern brawl!_ I kind of wish I had hands, just once, because that jerk with a bow hiding in the corner really needs a chair thrown at him. _If only Braids were here._ I follow his movements and eye-line, as he draws back the string. _He's aiming at... Gorgeous._ Luckily, she's close enough I manage to shove her to one side, and against a chair. _Sorry, but at least I didn't knock you through it. Or the table next to us._ The arrow still clips her axe, so close call. She quickly spots the creep, and grabs a bottle off the table while he's still nocking another arrow. _And..._ _ **nice**_ _shot! You got him right in the face! TAVERN FIGHT!_ I bark, tackling another Hurlock as it comes running out of the kitchen. _What, were you stealing a roast chicken? I'll steal_ _ **your**_ _chicken!_ I rip his throat open, while pondering if that was a decent retort. _Probably not, but at least nobody heard it_.

Looking up, I see we've cleared the room. A couple of the Templars are carefully removing an arrow from one's shoulder. _Corner Creep did that, I bet._ Speaking of, Mistress is standing over him to make sure he's dead. Satisfied, she steps back and crunches some glass under her boot. "So I _did_ hear a bottle shatter. I'm not crazy." _Well..._ "Shut up, Max" she wearily jokes.

"I think she hit it with that" Chirpy comments, tilting her head at Gorgeous. "You should get her a crossbow, with aim like that."

"Nah, bows are too... fingery? Give me a bottle or a rock, I'm aces" Gorgeous grins. "So, keg room?"

Mistress nods. "Keg room. Down the left corridor, everyone." She turns to the nearest Templar, and motions at the one getting her shoulder wrapped. "Is she alright to fight?"

"If needed, but I've told her to stay at the back and focus on Smiting those mage Spawn you mentioned."

Mistress gives a noise of approval. "Good thinking. Let's move, then!"

The tunnels are much the same, but almost no furniture to smash Darkspawn into. _Boring!_ I think I zoned out and fought by instinct, because we're back on the surface before I know it. I guess Scruffy's done his job well, since I don't see any Darkspawn. Can hear some fighting. _And groaning... oh, those guys are dragging a ballista._ Hmm, that's odd. We should investigate. Mistress is already running ahead, and whatever she saw around the corner has made her join the ballista team. _Alright, what's going... on?!_ I peek around the corner, and there's the fattest Ogre I ever did see. With bits of armour strapped in random places. _Huh... thank fuck it isn't moving, at least._ I finally notice Scruffy and two other mages, sweating and grunting as they apparently hold it in place with glistening magic.

"Any... time!" Scruffy calls, digging his feet into the dirt. _Whatever you're going to do, do it fast! I can see the Ogre's muscles straining, so the fat bastard might power out if you're not quick._

Mistress squints at the Ogre, while adjusting something on the ballista. The pushers stand back, and she sends the spear sailing. _Right into his stupid fat neck._ Scruffy and his buddies drop their arms, and let it collapse as the team reload a second shot for good measure. "Do it" Mistress orders. This spear also drives itself home, but now **without** a pained gurgle.

Mistress paces over, as Scruffy slumps down to one knee. "Good work" she comments, handing him a bottle of something. _Oh, Morrie Herb Juice! Stamina pot, or whatever they call it._

He nods, before downing it in one go. "Ugh... so that's what they taste like." I think he flicks his tongue, from the weird flavour. "... Still an Emissary. Think Templars had it cornered" Scruffy points.

Mistress pats his shoulder, and waves our people forward. "Secure the gate!" She checks her pouch, and tosses two smaller Morrie Juice bottles to the other mages. "Here." Gorgeous is already leading the way, so I catch up. _Yep, jerk with a staff. Smart little bastard, though._ Whenever a Templar starts posing their hands to do a Smite or whatever, it jabs magic at them. _If only Pete were here, he'd drop this fucker._ Chirpy wings it with an arrow, which distracts it for some Templars to finally land their Smitage. _Cue the stabbing. Stabbing... more stabbing. Okay. Guys, pretty sure it's dead. You can stop now._

Mistress closes her eyes, and slightly moves her head about. _Is that what I look like, when I'm trying to figure out where food smells are coming from?_ "... It's over" she whispers. Opening her eyes, she turns to the nearest Templars. "We've won, I can't sense any more."

An exhausted cheer echoes, with the scattered villagers carrying pitchforks and such joining in. _You mad bastards... I salute you for fighting, but still._

The bells sound again, but it's less insistent now. _Yeah! You hear_ _ **that**_ _, you subterranean fucks?! We win! You lose! Again. Again and again, until you get the point._

Scruffy joins us, wiping some sweat from his face. "What's the plan?"

Mistress sighs, before turning to Chirpy. "... I-"

"I know" she answers, with a reassuring expression. "Go, win this war. We've enough people who were at Denerim. We'll start the clean up until you can return." Some Templars, and Scruffy's mage buddies nod at Chirpy's statement. "But don't leave just yet. I need to confirm something" Chirpy adds, before heading back into the city.

"Is it true? Amell said another Emissary is behind all of this?" someone asks. _Oh, hey Rylien! Or was it Rylock… no, yeah, Rylien is the polite one. Hello!_

"A twisted, powerful one" Mistress confirms.

Rylien waves two shorter Templars forward. "Take Bryson and Donnell." _I get it – they'll be faster and nimble enough to get off some Smites. And she probably wants the bigger guys to stay here and help do the lifting._

* * *

 _Dragonbone Wastes, Gorgeous says Chatty told us to go to. Before she finished him off. Hmm... That's out west from here, isn't it? Middle of fucking nowhere. Perfect spot for the Darkspawn, once you think about it._

Mistress is still talking cleaning methods with the various leaders, how and where to burn Darkspawn and so on, when a wagon appears. _Wow, fancy! Especially those horses._ Once it comes to a stop, Chirpy hops down as Mistress and I walk over. "We had Dorothea's carriage safe in a Chantry warehouse, and she wants _you_ to use it." _It's a nice gesture, but this is Mistress we're talking about. Dottie knows it might not get returned in one piece, yes?_

"It'll get us back to the Keep, and from there we can take our chargers onto the Wastes. If they lived. Those wheels would never handle that terrain" Mistress quickly assesses. "Thank her for me?"

Chirpy waves her acceptance, letting Mistress approach the carriage. Gorgeous, Scruffy and the two Templars are quick to follow, as the Templar driver looks down at Mistress. "You said Vigil's Keep, Warden?"

Mistress gestures her affirmation to him, as we all start to pile in. "I expect we'll need the others, to finish this..." adding "I hope I'm not too late" under her breath.

* * *

 _ **Sorry about the delay, this chapter just wasn't coming together for a while and I got distracted with study.**_

 ** _Thank for waiting, and sticking with it if you have._**


	36. Such a Waste of good bones

I _can smell weird smoke, even though we can't see the Keep yet. Hopefully that's just because King Kaboom set off his fancy bombs._ Mistress tenses, next to me, so I guess she just noticed the odour.

"I don't hear anything" Gorgeous mutters. "Hopefully that's a good sign."

 _Mmh. Battle's over, at least._

There's a knock from up top, and the Templar Driver's voice echoes. "Coming up on the turn, Warden."

Frowning, Mistress taps the roof twice in acknowledgement. "Get ready" she tells the rest of us.

I hear a sentry whistle, I guess from the battlements. ".. Templar wagon approaching? Get the General, I guess!"

 _General? Don't tell me Garry fucking promoted himself while we were away?! I wouldn't put it past him._

"What General?" Gorgeous asks, as the wagon slows down.

"Loghain" Scruffy answers. "Well, used to be."

We lurch to a halt, before Mistress opens the door. "It's us" she calls to them, stepping out.

"The Commander! Get the Wardens!"

I jump out after her, before the wagon continues on through the gate. _Where are we going?_ I walk after her, as she follows some lumpy dirt. We move around a corner, to find another of those fat armoured Ogres. _Holy shit... that's one way to kill the bastard!_ I hum. He's well and truly impaled, with a mess of thorned vines and tree roots. _Of course. Bramble. Looks like she got him just before he could finish punching through the wall._ I turn away from the chipped masonry, since Mistress has continued walking.

"Commander" a soldier speaks, standing up. _Oh, and there's another one still crouched down. What's he... looking – oh, no._ "She leapt down to stop it getting through... and she did, right before it could finish crushing her."

I feel Mistress' silent sigh, before she responds. "Get her inside." _Not Bramble..._

We silently head back to the gate,where Nail and Braids are waiting. "The city?" Nail asks.

"I saved who I could" Mistress offers. "Our men?"

"We saved who we could" Nail repeats. "Still counting the losses, but Varel and Velanna-"

"I saw her" Mistress interrupts, while returning Braids' weary salute. "... Nathaniel?"

"Kid took a bump, but he'll be fine" Braids comments. "Healer's kept an eye on him."

"Once the Ogre Alpha and their Emissary went down, the remnants scattered" Nail adds. "In a hurry, so we can easily track them."

"I _know_ where they went" Mistress murmurs. "The Dragonbone Wastes. So I want everyone to get some quick rest, restock, and then we're heading out to end this."

Nail nods. "I'll tell them to get some horses ready, and double check the orders."

"I saw that crater the Darkspawn are being dumped in" Scruffy comments. "I can give the flames a boost, before we go." _Shame to pollute that nice crater, though. Kaboom sure knows how to create a hole in the ground._

"Fine" Mistress answers. "Get me, if you need. Come on, Max." _Where are we going this time? Speak with Madame Goat?_

I follow Mistress over to one of the remaining trees. _I guess not._ Groaning, she dumps her blade and shield before lowering herself down to sit. Leaning back against the tree, she pats the ground. "Sit down. I need a moment, so take a break." _Sure, can do._ I look up, watching her as she watches the commotion in the yard. _Don't you worry. We're going to win._ I drop my head across her legs, looking up as she yawns. _… Great, now I need to yawn._

* * *

 _Huh? What's everyone yelling about?!_ I blink, and get up. Oh, I guess Mistress just gave a speech. _Didn't even wake me up first. Rude._ Guess I better head over.

"There you are" Nail grunts, as I round a corner and wander past the stables. _Hello to you too, Sunshine. What's with the rope? We won't need that much, to tie the horses when we get there._

Looking satisfied, or as close as **that** face gets to satisfaction, he finishes looping the rope and attaches it to the nearest horse's saddle. "Here" he suddenly says, before tossing me some meat bits. _Hello to you too, for real this time._

"I've heard about the Wastes, but this will be the first time I've seen them" Nail murmurs, loading more stuff onto the saddles. _I guess it would have been a_ _ **Waste**_ _of time, before now. I know you can't hear me, but rest assured; I just said something hilarious._ Huh... _then again, you're incapable of laughing, so it doesn't matter if you understand me or not. Morrie would have chuckled. Well, she'd have masked it behind her fake annoyance and disinterest, but I'd know she appreciated it._

How does he know so much about saddle techniques, anyway? I thought he was a carpenter. _I'm sure Toadfish once made a crack about Gnawer being from a long line of cabinet makers. Lying prick probably made that up, like everything that ever came out of his mouth. Or her mother's side._ Yeah, it must have been her mother's side of the family. She knows a thing or two about quality timber, the way she complimented those sticks I gave her. _I mean, look at Nail; clearly Gnawer got all her fine points from her Mum. I don't think I ever met the woman, but now I wish I had._

"We're ready, then?"

 _Mistress! You didn't wake me for your big speech!_

She sighs, and rubs my ear. "Yeah, I know. We've got a distance to cover, so you needed the rest if you're coming." _IF? Obviously! But I accept your apology._ I glance behind her. Scruffy, Gorgeous, those two Templars, and Braids. _Alright then. Everyone, mount up and let's go kick the Architect right in his stupid butt!_

"Good luck out there, boss" Braids comments, watching them pick horses. _Oh, you're not coming?_

"You're sure?" Mistress asks.

"Aye. I'm no good on horses, and if there is some jumped-up Broodmother behind this, you want the fast people" he waves. "The one we fought one last year taught me that." _… The fuck is a Broodmother?_ "But I'll get things in order here, and me and the kid can always bring the troops running if you take too long."

She nods, and pulls herself onto a horse. "Wait... Sigrun? Who-"

"I'll take her" Nail offers. "I've carried people into battle before, after all."

"Yeah..." Gorgeous comments, glancing up at the horses. "These guys _don't_ eat meat, right?"

"They don't bite" Scruffy answers.

"Unless you feed them wrong" a Templar notes. _Shut up, you're not helping. And helping is the whole reason you came, remember?_

"Huh?!"

Nail sighs, as he lifts Gorgeous up. "You keep your hand flat, or they might nibble a finger."

 _Or just leave a trough out, and let the lazy bastards eat from that. 'Oh, I'm a horse! I get hand-fed, like a big fat spoilt pillock!'_ I hear a rude grunt from one of them. _Mind your own damn business, horse! I'm talking_ _ **about**_ _you, not to you._

"What's with this rope?" Gorgeous asks, while steadying herself. _Good question._

"Oh, right" Mistress pauses. "Apart from Daylen, none of you saw Seranni?" _Can't say I have, but it sounds spicy._

Gorgeous shrugs. "Who?"

"Velanna's sister. The Architect took her, before killing the rest of her party. I promised Velanna we'd rescue her... so if we find them, someone grab her. I don't care if it's by rope, brute force, magic... Max, you see an Elf woman, you tackle her. Sit on her, if you have to."

 _Got it!_

"Right" Mistress says, after glancing at everyone. "We ride."

* * *

 _Well... this is disturbing._ I glance back, as the others come over the hill. _You see?_

"... What's this?" one of the Templars asks.

"The two factions wiped each other out, it seems" Scruffy ponders.

"Huh. Guess our job got easier, at least" Gorgeous remarks, stepping over a corpse.

"I still sense a group" Mistress frowns, leading us forward. "You alright after the journey, Max?"

 _I should be, thanks. I'll take a breather while we wander in, and maybe hang back if there's fighting._

"... There's something else here" Nail complains. _I think. You always_ _ **look**_ _like you're complaining, champ._

Still, I see why they call it the Dragonbone Wastes. _All these bones would have been great to chew, once... but they sat out here to age and crumble. Definitely a Waste of good bones. We should tell Gnawer, she'd want to preserve what's left._

My ears prick up, at a faint echo. _Oh,_ _ **bollocks**_ _._

"You hear that?" Scruffy whispers to Mistress and Nail.

"... Shit" I hear Nail grouse.

"Here we go again?" Gorgeous asks, checking her daggers.

"Yeah, exactly" Mistress affirms, before turning to face the Templars. "There's a High Dragon nearby. Be wary." She rummages through her satchel, and holds up a weird vial. _Wait, isn't that one of the things Kaboom gave you?_ "If we see it, stay back. I still need to see if these work."

 _It's too bad Shoe isn't here; he always seemed fond of explosions._

"A High Dragon?" one Templar stammers.

"... _Here we go again_... this has happened before?" the other mutters, while watching the sky.

"This will be number six, for her" Scruffy confidently answers, after doing a quick finger-count. "She knows what to do, at this point."

"Or she has worse luck than the Seeker woman" the Templar replies.

"No" Nail interjects. "She only had to fight three dragons, from what I heard. And the big one blew _itself_ up." _Okay... who the fuck are you talking about? Sounds like a poser, compared to Mistress._

Ignoring them, Mistress tests the weight of her vial. After we pass a few more hills, she waves for us to stop. She sneaks up, and stares out for a moment. "... Sigrun?"

Gorgeous creeps over as well, pulling herself up to see over the bank. "Yeah?"

"Think you can land this, in amongst that lot? Preferably near the dragon?"

Now Gorgeous inspects the vial, before giggling. "Leave it with me... and tell the others to duck. There's about to be chunks flying."

 _Good thing she knows about bottle-hurling... dragons are a pain in the butt._

"Everyone down behind this ridge" Mistress warns us, as we follow her gesturing. "And cover your ears."

* * *

 _ **A/N: I'm still here; just sidetracked with study and job hunting. Plus I got stuck on this a few times**_

 ** _Like Velanna's fate - I decided to follow what happens if she stays at the Keep... but the_** _**'bricks fall on her head, no matter what upgrades' nonsense was beyond a disservice. So instead she went out fighting, against an Ogre Alpha.**_

 _ **Almost at the end...**_


	37. Stir the blood of ancient things

**On time for once, and we're almost at the end!**

* * *

 _Oh, hello!_ I don't need to look back, to know Mistress has stiffened up. The others seem ready as well. _Look at this pompous git, in his dumb outfit and weird hat. You must be the Architect, then._

"And so, we meet again" it slurs.

 _Yeah, we would have been here sooner... but_ _ **someone**_ _sent two different armies to get in our way. Let's talk about that, shall we?_

I hear a blade get drawn, and notice a Genlock next to him. _Or is it a ghoul... what a weird scent. I'm not sure what that thing is._

"No, Utha" he tells it. "That is not how this must begin."

 _Begin?! You arseholes tried to level Vigil's Keep, twice, and then you attacked Mistress in the mine! That's **before** we even fucking talk about Amaranthine._

"I owe you an apology, Commander. When we met, I meant to explain myself... but fate intervened." _Oh here we go... I prefer normal Darkspawn. They don't waste time talking before a fight._ While he's nattering, I glance at a side passage. _Hmm..._

"Misunderstanding" Mistress interrupts. "Is that what you call murdering Grey Wardens for their blood?" _Yeah! Don't pret... wait,_ _ **blood?!**_ _Holy fuck, I figured you were a creep, but you just had to go beyond huh? Anyway, don't pretend you sent Talkspawn for a chat - he had his goons tunnel up into the fort and attack while most of the Orlesians were still in bed! He even fucking admitted he wanted to kill us! Don't try shovelling this shit on us, you blood-stealing liar._

"They were already dead, when brought to me. I needed their blood, as I needed yours."

Taking a step forward, Mistress stares Leech-Features down. "Tell me one thing – you forced awareness on her, didn't you? That's what this Mother is; a Broodmother who woke up?"

Leech-Features gives a light nod. "She reacted poorly... she rages against me."

"I don't blame her" Mistress spits. "This, your insanity, it ends here."

" _Before_ you give up, and try tainting our cities again" Nail adds, eyeing the Genghoul. "Maric had hoped you were both dead... one more job he left me."

"How... unfortunate. I am sorry, Ut-" his rambling is cut off, when Scruffy launches a blast of magic. _Yeah! Shut his stupid fucking mouth, Scruf! Let's go!_ I swerve around the Genghoul, as it drops down to charge at Nail and Gorgeous. It was... this side tunnel. I race in, and quickly catch up to the Elf girl I saw peeking out at us while Leechie was talking. _Hello! I was a friend of your sister, so I'd prefer to bring you out with minimal biting._ Ow. _Why do they always think prodding me with stuff will work? What is it that you people don't understand about 'warhound'?_ I rip the club out of her hand, and hurl it away, before managing to get a safe hold on her leg. _Quit squirming. Less chance of my teeth ruining your pants._

Once the sound of combat stops echoing, I reposition to sit on her for a moment. I bark so they know where to find us, then get my grip back. The Templars soon appear, carrying that spare rope. _Right, of course they're trained to restrain runaways._ She puts up a struggle, but they quickly get her tied up and on her feet.

I lead the way back, listening for the voices. "-Don't think this one _was_ a Genlock" I hear Gorgeous remark to someone. "... I'm sure I know the fighting style from somewhere."

"No" Nail drawls. "Maric told me about the Wardens he fooled, and _turned_ by somehow accelerating their Taint. A Dwarf was among them."

"Huh... if that's what I'll look like in 30 years, I'd rather be dead!" she jokes in response. _I think. Everything's death with her, but in a grinny way._

Mistress locks eyes with Bramble-Sis as we step out, both glaring.

"What did you do?! He just wanted his people to be free! Like the Dalish... Velanna will agree."

"And the ancient Magisters just wanted to see if The Maker existed" Scruffy murmurs to himself.

Sighing, Mistress walks over. "Velanna?! Velanna is _dead_ because of that thing's insanity, along with however many of your Clan. Do you understand that?"

"... He meant well" Bramble-Sis attempts, making Mistress throw up her hands.

"Make sure she can't run off... tie her to that column. Max, sit on her legs I guess. We'll go finish this."

 _Aw, but I wanted to see what these Broodmother things are! You talk like they're all gross – I like gross stuff._

"No, stay here. Broodmothers aren't really something you can bite" Mistress orders. _Fine, fine. I'll just play with Bramble-Sis._

* * *

 _So anyway, the eighteenth thing I hate about squirrels is their footprints. You know what I'm saying?_ I glance up, at Bramble-Sis' flat expression. _I guess you don't. See, the thing about their footprin- wait a sec. I think someone's coming back._ Nail walks around the corner, alone.

"It's over, we won" he mutters, noticing my stare. "She wants you to see something" he adds, but I guess that was for Bramble-Sis. I move, so he can get her standing. _I'll tell you about the footprints later._

I follow behind them, as he leads her down the stairs with a rope. _That sure is a lot of dead Monster Grubs... still doesn't explain why I felt the ground shake, earlier._

The stairs bottom out, and we continue through a hole in the masonry. _Is this what the Deep Roads look like? I expected something fancier. It stinks, too._

"... What is that?" Bramble-Sis whispers, making me look up. _I... yeah. Is_ _ **that**_ _what a Broodmother is?_

"Meet the Mother" Mistress tells her, gesturing at the corpse. "This is what happens to women that Darkspawn capture alive... if they're lucky, they go insane before the process is complete." She pauses, sadness taking over. "He forced this one back to lucidity, just to see if he could. I don't blame her for wanting revenge; but once it spilled onto the surface, I had to finish it. Both of them."

"... He wanted to help them" Bramble-Sis says out loud, but apparently to herself.

"Perhaps it made sense to him... but it had to end before he tried again." Mistress looks back at her. "You realise that's probably what he had in mind for you, don't you?"

"What-" Bramble-Sis stammers, before looking at the Mother again.

"He had your entire war party slaughtered, _except_ you and Velanna. Kept you around, whispering his good intentions... my guess? Once this was over, he would have tried again. Waking a fresh Broodmother, one he'd trained to trust him completely..."

Sis pales, as she thinks about it. "I... he never said _why_ he took me in, besides _saving_ me..."

Scruffy stands up, slipping an empty mana flask into his pouch. "Even if it wasn't his plan, it probably would have occurred to him eventually. _Anything for the big picture_ seemed to be his mindset."

"Especially if his thoughts turned against the surface again" Nail opines. "A loyal vanguard of _intelligent_ Shrieks, leading the way."

"Alright, enough" Mistress calls. "Let's get out of here, and rest upstairs if we need." She turns back, to stare at the Mother thing. "... May the Maker guide you to peace."

* * *

Everyone finds a spot to sit, once we walk into the fresh air a short way. _You Templars, don't sit in any Darkspawn gunk from when we blew up the Dragon and those handful of Spawn._

I follow Mistress, as she discreetly sits herself and Bramble-Sis to one side.

"... What happens to me, now?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Away from them" Mistress answers, briefly looking at the Templars. "During the Blight, we found... well, I'm going to be honest. Avernus served with the Grey Wardens once, and turned to blood magic when the King decided to kill the Commander and everyone at her fortress over an old grudge she had reignited. Between the magic and his experiments with the taint for the last two hundred years, he'll likely be able to tell just what the Architect did to you."

"Two hundred...?"

Mistress nods. "Yeah... I should check if he's still alive anyway, actually. I forbade him from his creepier methods, and haven't heard from him since before this mess started. Need to make sure he's stuck to that, if time hasn't caught up to him. After that... I suppose it's up to you. You could stay at the fortress; it's mostly deserted apart from Avernus and the occasional visit from a family of humans. Or Vigil's Keep, with us – not expecting you to enlist, mind." She pauses, and lets out a groan. "I wasn't there at the time, but Velanna ran into some of your Clan. Their reaction to her probably means _you_ won't be welcomed back. Not after the Keeper died."

"... Ilshae?"

"I'm afraid so. Velanna was quiet for a few days, and then came to furiously remind me how I promised we'd rescue you. _One_ promise I was able to keep, at least..." I creep in, and rub her hand with my face. _You kept every promise, unless they were impatient._ "Well, we can discuss this more at the Keep. You should at least stay long enough for Velanna's service. She said she wanted a whitethorn, if something happened; it's fitting that you pick one."

They both sit back, awkwardly silent.

 _So... are we going to untie her yet, or what?_

* * *

 **I couldn't find anything saying why they kept Seranni around, but the above idea hit me while I was writing. The Architect's main plan is _already_ all over the place, from one conversation to the next with various Talkspawns. It's one possibility, at least.**

 **Thanks to everyone who's read/followed/reviewed..**


	38. Epilogue: Summary Execution

**And I'm back! Sorry, had a super rough half-year, so I did sentences on this here and there until things got better. On with the story...**

* * *

 _So anyway, good thing we went back later and retrieved Arkie's corpse. Because a bunch of Orlesian Wardens eventually showed up, and those fuckers were snooty bastards. Even for Orlesians. They ordered everyone into separate rooms, and questioned them for a thousand hours. And they left more non-Warden people behind, like with Lady Goat, probably just to watch us. They sure didn't seem to believe Arkie was dead, even after being shown the body. Their suspicions made me suspicious... I snuck around their stuff and followed them about sneakily, Chirpy-style, but I never did learn Orlesian. All their stupid made-up words. What the hell is 'ifius', anyway? They whispered something about the situation, and if it were like a core 'ifius'. Maybe just a non-core 'ifius', I'd wager... if I knew what the fuck one is!_

Barker squints at me for a second. _"Ifius? That's not even any kind of word."_

 _I know yeah? Orlesians, darling._

" _Don't call me darling."_

 _It's just a saying!_ I groan. This is what I get for talking to Barker – but the big meeting thing is still going on. If this is what Landsmeetings are like, when there's no crazy old men to duel, I'm not gonna bother accompanying Mistress. Talk about boring... I get that Amaranthine is still rebuilding, after Broodmum's attack, but did Furgus need to invite **everyone**?! We've got the Chant Tree fussers, all the various nobles from the Arling, and the Teyrndom... whatever you call a Teyrn's holdings. Even some who aren't locals. _Like this guy! Mayor Deadshit or whatever his name is, from Crestwood. I've never even heard of the place, but here he is. Had his hand out for construction money, before the speeches started, because his village got flooded in the Blight apparently. Don't build so close to a bloody lake, you pillock! And leave Lord Guy alone – it's bad enough he got stuck with such a dumb name. No wonder he turned into a drunk. That must be his wife... Lady Woman, probably._

Barker nudges me out of my thoughts, then motions her snout over at Gorgeous and Mistress. _"Is that her entire entourage? I thought you had more Wardens now; like the smelly Dwarf and the gloomy Howe one. For that matter, where's the old chap or the Mage?"_

 _We left Scruffy behind, since he's officially Warden-Lieutenant now, with the newer recruits. Like those two Templars, they decided to join. Guess dealing with Broodmum made them see there's more important things to do than just chasing mages around all day. They helped Scruffy get us a proper healy mage from the Circle, too. Neria Serana. Something like that. She's another elf. But yeah, the Orlesians took Nail back to Montsimmard with them, all snooty-like. '_ _The matter seems resolved, so he can report to Montsimmard. As was originally ordered.' Here's my report: Up yours, Pierre! Soooooo sorry we didn't send away one of our_ _ **three**_ _remaining Wardens when crazy Talkspawn were burning the countryside. Maybe if you had sent people who can manage not to be ambushed? Buncha whiny bastards. They even had a fit when the woman showed up._

" _What woman?"_ Barker asks, laying down as the speeches continue.

 _Fiona, she said her name was. She seemed nice, for an Orlesian. The Montsimmard gang weren't happy to see her, so she **must** be okay. They accused her of 'meddling', when she announced she was here as a consultant - apparently she saw the Architect once. But she might have been spying for someone as well? Second time I heard her speaking to Mistress in private, she tried to edge the conversation to be about **Al** of all people. That ungrateful gobshite had nothing to do with the situation. _

_But Mistress gave her 'let's pretend this isn't awkward' smile and played along, like she had been expecting him to come up in conversation. Perhaps Fi just likes to gossip, or she's crazy. Both? She **does** work with Wynne, after all. I think? Scruffy did say Fi is kind of a big deal in the Circle, at least. I left them to gossip, and that was when I eavesdropped on the Monty Wardens._

 _Good thing Fi came along – she knew some of Arkie's methods, from whatever happened when she ran into the guy, and checked Bramble-Sis over. Says she won't Blighten normal people unless she's around them for weeks, if it spreads at all, and the corruption won't progress within her own body._

" _... So what was the questioning about, with those Orlesians?"_ Barker gets out, between yawns.

 _Hell if I know, I wasn't gonna sit in there for that long. Scruffy said it was kinda like when the Templars would lock down the Circle to do random demonic mind-control checks, or something like that. I mean, maybe Arkie used some on Bramble-Sis, but Mistress cut his stupid head off. They still interrogated her. Letting a thrall kill you is pretty piss-weak mind control, if you ask me. Plus, Fi and Old Man Avernus had already checked Bramble-Sis. She's fine._ I glance up, at the latest talker. _I know this guy!_ He was at Mistress' welcoming party, back when. _Yeah, he was arguing with Esme's idiot minion... Lady Packton. 'Packton the weight' more like, judging by the size of her butt._ I guess he's got all of her land now, and not just that bridge.

"Thank you, Lord Derren" Furgus says, after he finishes. _Lord, eh? Definitely got the land – heh heh, or will he Teyrn Down control of Teyrn's Down?_

Barker sighs in annoyance. As usual. _"Must you?"_

 _Probably not, but it makes the day go faster._

" _For_ _ **you**_ _, maybe."_

 _Yeah yeah, whatever._ _Oh hey, Del is about to speak._ I wonder if she's still annoyed Mistress backed the suggestion she be the new City Bann, since Esme's dead? I suppose today's only an acting confirmation, until the Landsmeet agree, but the only other serious contender was that Eddelbrek guy. I like him, but everyone said he'd never move into the city for a paperwork job. Even if he hadn't refused, Del was the one who helped muster the survivors after the first wave of Talkspawn attacked.

" _... She's one of them Howe people, right?"_

 _Yep, but we don't hold that against her._

" _Same as that gloom-faced guy. Him and the pungent one saved us from a bandit attack"_ she notes.

 _You were there? Yeah, Braids wouldn't shut up about it. Said Furgus was uneasy when he realised who it was. 'Damn near crapped himself, I reckon!'_ Still, Furgus didn't react badly when Del started talking...so maybe one day he'll willingly speak with Newt, too.

* * *

 _Thank Dane that's over with!_ I stand by the side doors, waiting for Mistress to finish talking with various nobles waiting a quick chat. At least she and Gorgeous decided to skip wearing armour today, since Furgus' people found dresses for them both. They'd be dead on their feet, from standing still in metal for so long. Good thing nobody expects me to dress up for social functions. _Of course, my butt is **still** asleep from the cold floor, so I have to endure my own downsides as well._

 _Wait... is that a fucking Orlesian I hear?!_ I creep over, warily. _Sneak sneak._ It **is** an Orlesian, babbling some shit to Mistress.

"-After all, the support of the Warden who reclaimed Haven will go a long way!" _How about **you** go a long way, and don't come back?_

I'm still approaching, when I hear some people muttering. "Who is that, anyway?"

"Him? That's Machen's _husband_ , I think. Says they own the lands around the Holy Temple."

They both snort in annoyance, and I concur. _Nobody_ _ **owns**_ _Murder-Town, champ. We cleaned the entire place out. So you can thank Mistress for that, if you do get the land._

Furgus appears, before I can bite the guy on his stupid butt. _You win this round..._ "Sister, do you have a moment?"

"If you'll excuse me, Marquis?" Mistress asks the weirdo. _So his name is Marky, huh? By the look of him, I was expecting something more pompous._

Markie waves his assent. "Of course – consider the idea, and we can talk again near the Landsmeet."

"I shall, thank you" she replies, before Furgus leans in.

"You're quietly needed in the Chapel. 'Matters of the realm', apparently."

Mistress sighs. "Right... Sigrun, stay here and enjoy the food. If this is who I think, it won't take long." Gorgeous just gives a lazy salute with one finger.

The door orderly lets us through a side entrance, or is it an exit, all professional like. _Thanks, Doorderly! You're doing great. Not at all dawdling... and I just confused myself a bit._

No matter – I follow Mistress to the chapel. And nobody's here.

"Hello, Erlina" Mistress remarks, without looking around. Sure enough, Enna steps out from nowhere. _Stop doing that!_

"Arlessa Cousland" she replies, before grimacing down at me. "... _Lord_ Cousland."

Mistress blinks at that. "Did Anora order y-"

"Let's not talk about that" Enna says, stone-faced. _Yeah, no need to state the obvious. The Queen and I are good friends, so what?_ "The Queen sends her regards, along with these." She hands over some paper I didn't even notice, before gesturing at the fireplace. _Hang on, why is that already lit? It's still daylight, and not even cold enough lately._

Mistress nods. "You were never here, I take it?"

"I was, actually. To send the Queen's regards to your brother, and report back to her how this gathering went, if anyone asks" Enna answers. _Hmm, so just walked in with the others? I bet getting to use the front door is a rare thing, in her line of work._

"Alright" Mistress replies, thumbing through the paper. "I'll easily get through these before anyone notices I'm gone. Please return my regards."

 _And mine too!_ I voice, causing Enna to non-verbally groan with her left eye. _I didn't even know you could physically do that._

The door softly clicks shut, as I sit next to Mistress on the bench. "Loghain's managed to get a letter back. Complaining about the weather and food, mostly." _Of course he is, grumpy old bastard. They eat snails, right? I tried that once... the shell tasted awful, and it was too crunchy._ She crushes that letter, and goes to the next. "Anora 'warily approves' with putting Delilah to the Landsmeet as the new Bann. 'You talked Fergus around, so you can do the same in Denerim' she says." _I mean, the southists are_ _ **still**_ _arguing over who gets to be Arl of Denerim and whatever the go is with Gwaren. Like they'll even think twice about Amaranthine._

I glance up, when she goes quiet. _Mistress...?_ "Hmm. So Erlina's people located Alistair."

 _Her people? What, Elves?_ "... 'They agree with your assessment'. Going to watch him, regardless, just to keep tabs on him. See if Eamon bothers looking for him in a few years, I guess."

 _Eamon... that fucking Mabari-hating prick. Probably won't even bother seeing if he's okay._

"I guess that's it, then" she concludes, gathering up the balls of paper and tossing them into the fire. Grabbing the poker, she pokes the ashes around. _I mean, what else do you do with a poker?_ The flames crackle and change colour for a moment. _Must be fancy ink – that's how you know a Queen wrote them._

Mistress stops, and lightly washes her hands in the stinky oil bowl. _Oh, I get it. You'll smell like you were just praying in here. Or penance for using the churchy room for spystuff. Things are so much simpler when you follow Dane. He doesn't give a shit what you do, not like the Maker or whatever his name is again._

* * *

We return to the gathering, to find Gorgeous and Furgus talking with Chirpy. _I thought I sniffed her smell, earlier! Buried amongst the Chant Tree group, no doubt._

"There she is" Furgus gestures at us.

"Talking about me, I take it" Mistress soft-complains.

"Mostly about how I didn't think you'd make it yesterday, when I got no word back. Mother would not have been happy" Furgus jokes.

"I meant to ask; was the party in Orzammar _that_ good?" Gorgeous says in her own jestful tone.

"Just another ceremony" Mistress groans, at first. "But then I got talked into looking for an overdue expedition to a far corner of the Deep Roads. Which... ask me about Amgarrak another day, when I'm drunk sometime..."

 _Sounds dreadful already – I'm almost feeling guilty I stayed behind, for another round in the breeding kennels. I mean, we're probably both exhausted, but you didn't even get any **fun** out of it. _

"I got back to Amaranthine the day before yesterday, and basically only had time to bathe before leaving again for this. So it was risk being late, or turn up caked in Deeps Road muck. Mother would have scolded me, regardless."

 _Yeah, Grandma Ellie would have said 'no supper' no matter what._ "She hated dirt at the best of times, and she never had to deal with us being coated with dirt that could make people sick."

Furgus smirks. "I don't know... there was that time Max barged into a dinner party, covered head to toe in dung and jumped up on Bann-"

Mistress shoots him **A Look**. "It was _mud_ , Fergus. If you must keep bringing that up, get it right." _Statistically speaking, it was probably an even mix of the two. And some other stuff I had rolled in. Good times._ "At least I gave Oghren a laugh, when I rushed in and out with the bucket" she sighs, with a faint smile. "'No time to fetch a servant! Move!'"

I nudge Chirpy's hand. _Don't worry, I didn't roll in anything today. You can scritch my ears already. I mean, if you like. Please?_ She gets the idea, while Furgus keeps talking.

"-in time for us to talk, last night. Make up for her conveniently being out on a mission for her birthday."

"How is that convenient?" Gorgeous asks, while Chirpy makes an amused noise.

"Hiding from it again" she notes.

"We were somewhere in the Deep Roads, last year" Mistress protests. "I think. Lost track of time down in Orzammar." _True, but you also hate birthday talk anyway._ "At least this year, we were only camping out in the Wending Wood. Someone thought they saw a bereskarn... turned out to be a druffalo with mange."

Furgus laughs. "Your typical luck – at least in the woods, you couldn't lock yourself in the study."

" _One_ year I did that" Mistress groans. "He also leaves out the part where I was only six. And Mother had invited two girls who hated each other."

"They bonded over laughing at the situation, though" Furgus helpfully notes. "I hear they're still best friends. Mandy always could bring people together." _**Still**_ _a better time than her fifteenth birthday. Small victories._

"Don't you have people to farewell, Fergus?" she mutters.

"I do – the Mothers were first, of course, since they have to travel back. That's how I found Leliana" he explains. "Since she's returning south, instead, I offered her a room here for the night."

"And I appreciate it – you should come along, when I fetch my things from the inn" Chirpy suggests to Mistress. "We can finally get a drink, for your two birthdays I've missed."

Mistress gets a look of defeated acceptance. "Alright, alright. You win."

Gorgeous smirks. "I didn't think you knew how to quit, boss."

Someone slides up, and hands Furgus a bit of paper. He takes a quick look. "Hmm. Perfect, and perfect timing. Here" he hands it over to Mistress.

"... You know he still might not listen?" she warns. _What's this?_

"Just have Sigrun and Leliana put on the charm. Have fun, sister... I really should return to mingling already." He heads back into the crowd.

Chirpy's already sneakily glancing at the paper. " _Teyrn's official decree to_ -" she murmurs. "Why does Max need a proclamation to enter the inn?"

 _Because the owner is an idiot who believes vindictive slander, Chirpy! I kinda explained this in the first chapter, but you weren't around for that._

"Long and stupid story" Mistress shrugs. _Seems like everything we do is a long and stupid story. I suppose that's life._ "Let's be off to the inn, then." _Good idea. Leave now and we might be back before it's_ _ **too**_ _dark. But hopefully not too late – because my butt is still asleep._ "So – Amgarrak?" Gorgeous prompts, when we get near the front gates.

"No" Mistress answers. "And not in the inn, for _that_ story. Even if we're drunk, it's not for everyone to hear. I saw some wrong shit, down in the Roads, during the Blight... but this got worse."

 _Worse than giant spiders and being stuck in a cave with Wynne for weeks on end? Don't exaggerate, it's not healthy._

"Worse than the woman? Oghren's wife?" Gorgeous asks, warily.

"Branka" Chirpy almost hisses. _Did_ _ **nobody**_ _in our group like the woman? Orzammar sure seemed to think she was important._

"... Yeah, worse than her. Turns out there was an idea even **she** thought was insane" Mistress groans, rubbing a couple of fingers through her hair. We step out into the sunlight and fresh air. "But that's all over with. Come on, let's go have some fun."

* * *

 **Awakening, over and done with! Which just leaves Witch Hunt, since I shrugged off Amgarrak. I'll probably post that next year. Thanks to everyone's who been reading, and sorry about the drop-off.**

 **(Weird to think I'm almost done with Max - unless I do random one-shots. Gonna miss the little weirdo)**


End file.
